When Roses Bloom
by Winter Rose EC
Summary: This is the Sequel to Beginnings of Ends. NOT fopless, but still neat. While in a duel between Erik and Raoul, Christine interferes. Will she be able to stop them? A fluffy EC fic. New characters introduced.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Well folks, here it is, the Sequel,just as promised! If you are a new reader, welcome…and I highly recommend that you read the first installment: Beginnings of Ends. If you're not a new reader…welcome! This is only the beginning of a LOOONG story. I might make it have 32 chapters. I don't know, depends on how much time I have, and how much I put in one chapter. This Prologue is short, but you need to know this. Chapter 1 is a very long one, so it might take me a little while to post it. Shutting up now.

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**Prologue**

It has been five weeks since Christine left him. He was miserable. He wanted her back, and he was going to find a way to get rid of the Beast. Raoul did not like the idea of something so horrible touching _his_ Christine. She was his first, and he loved her more than that…**_thing_ **could. He could give her more than the Beast could even dream of.

He was rich, handsome, and he truly did love her. She was confused and frightened….she didn't know what to do. _I will kill the murderer, then rescue Christine._ _What if he was too late? What if the Phantom already…hurt her?_ He couldn't bear the thought. He decided that he would, indeed return and save her. Yes…he would save the damsel in distress and she would love him for all eternity. There's no way that he would let her just slip out of his site like that again.

He went to his bedroom desk and pulled open a drawer. He got out a piece of parchment and dipped his quill in the inkbottle. He was carefully thinking of a plan to save her. _Would he trick the Phantom into coming out of his lair? Could the Phantom even **be** tricked?_ And if he could, what would Raoul do? He never killed anyone in his entire life, but this had to be done! Phantom was a kidnapper, woman stealer, and a murderer. He deserved punishment for his crimes. Phantom has evaded the law far too many times. It was now up to Raoul to serve him justice.

Raoul suddenly smirked as a plan began to form in his mind. It was simple. Just show up. He was sure that the Phantom would fight back in his fury just looking at Raoul. Yes…his plan would work. It had to.

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**A/N: Uh Oh! Our dear Fop is up to no good…but relax. His intentions are purely good. He just doesn't understand the love between Christine and Erik. Either that…or he doesn't want to accept it. Who knows? R&R!**


	2. Fatal Mistakes

**A/N: Be forewarned: This one is possibly a tear jerker. This chapter is part of the reason why this is rated M.The other reason…is in another chapter.;)

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**1. Fatal Mistakes**

Tonight is the night when he would take action. He had everything planned out…not that there was much planned. He straps his sheath around his waist and inserts his sword, careful not to scratch the blade.

Raoul made his way to his front door slowly, but urgently. He stepped over the threshold, locked the door behind him, and waved down a hansom. He hastily threw the man a wad of bills, and almost snarled, but he controlled himself, as his good manners returned. "To the Opera Populair, Monsieur." The hansom driver quickly nodded and gripped the reins. When he heard theVicomte shut the door, he cracked his reins and the hansom lurched forward.

It seemed like hours before the hansom rolled to a stop in front of a large, ominous building. It still had the construction sign on the door, but Raoul ignored it. Once inside, he went straight to Christine's dressing room and moved to the mirror. He had seen Madame Giry open it, and he fumbled for any kind of switch. When he found it, he slid it open stealthily.

As he drew near to the spot where he had fallen, he knew it might be a short cut, but he didn't want to get wet. He wanted to return to Christine in full glory. He jumped over the foot switch and proceeded.

Twice, he had to avoid touching a foot switch, not wanting to know what would happen if he did. He wasn't so desperate as he was the first time, so he carefully kept an eye on the ground for any other traps. Finally, he saw steps that led to an open area that appeared to be a dock for the Phantom's gondola.

He paused, now trembling in what was to come. _Was he really going to go through with this? Yes. He had made it this far. No way was he_ _turning back now._ He stepped in the gondola and rowed his way across the lake, with much effort.

When he reached the gate, he jumped out of the gondola, after noticing the water went shallow, but up to his waist. _Oh, damn..._

He yells, "**Phantom!** I have come to re-claim my bride!"

Erik had just finished eating dinner with Christine, when he heard splashes and a familiar voice call for him. Christine immediately went behind Erik, who already had his Punjab lasso out. She grabbed his arm and tried to talk him out of it. "Erik, don't go, just ignore him. You don't need another crime on your hands. Especially, not him."

Raoul was getting impatient and he pressed on, "Come out, you vile creature! Unhand her and fight me like a man!"

Erik snapped. He was furious at the Vicomte's words. _How **dare** he! How dare he, to come down here, in his home, and try to take her away from him!_ He grabbed Christine and took her to a secret room, instructing her to stay there, and left to retrieve his sword. _If the fop wants to play, we'll play._

Raoul heard splashy footsteps and waited for the Phantom to come out from hiding. The Phantom gives Raoul a look of pure hatred before speaking in an calm, eerie voice.

"Monsieur. We meet again…though not on the greatest of terms..again. If you truly value your life, it would be wise to take leave immediately and never return. I do not wish to resort to violence, but will if provoked. Wouldn't want to damage your pretty face, would we?"

His voice was creepy whisper, masking all hints of loath. He spoke with a calm politeness, and it sent chills up Raoul's spine. _He came down here for a reason, and he wasn't about to leave just because of a polite threat._ He suddenly remembered the reason and spoke up, "Christine! Where is she? What have you done to her? I swear, if y-"

"I assure you, Christine chooses to stay of her own free will, and you'll not take her by force. You'll have to kill me before you even touch her."

Raoul feels anger rise and he unsheathes his sword. "Very well then. I shall slay the Beast and claim my **_prize_**!" He added a bit of emphasis to 'prize', as that was what Erik viewed as Raoul's life.

Erik draws his own sword and opens the gate. Raoul strikes first, but Erik pars the blow and makes his own move. Raoul moves to the side and Erik misses, but spins around. Raoul pars his sudden move and the force sends him back a little. He swings his sword, and just barely nicks Erik on his side. Erik doesn't notice and he trips Raoul, the price for getting too close. Erik was about to run him through, but Raoul brought his feet up and kicked him hard in the stomach. Erik dropped his sword and gasped for air. He staggers back onto a wall, the wind literally knocked out of him. He realized he needed his sword now, because Raoul got up and was quickly advancing him.

He raised his sword to stab Erik in the same spot he kicked just seconds ago.

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Christine saw it all. It happened so fast, she couldn't think. She knew Raoul had given Erik some sort of internal damage from the kick. She would not allow another one. She had to stop this madness….NOW!

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Raoul wasn't going to stop now. He was going to finish his job. It wasn't a sin to kill a murderer. He just wanted to end it quickly and leave with Christine. He heard shouting, but he was so determined, he ignored them. He pulled back his sword and stabbed with great force. It happened so fast, he couldn't have stopped if he wanted to. He saw a blur of motions and instantly knew his mistake.

Raoul watched in horror as the tip of his blade pierced through the outer layer of clothing, plunging deeper through a corset, a chemise, and at last, soft skin; going even further. He heard a soft gasp and saw a deep crimson color begin to stain a spot on the top layer, growing as if it were alive.

He suddenly felt sick and tasted bile. He averted his eyes to look into dark brown ones that began to glaze over. He let go of his sword and backed away chanting 'sorry' like a broken record. Raoul heard a murmured 'I forgive you' before he heard more shouting.

"**_YOU BASTARD! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! _**If it wasn't for Christine, I would kill you right where you **STAND!" **Erik held onto Christine from behind and whispered something in her ear before turning back to Raoul, nothing left of his polite tone earlier. "**GET OUT** before I change my mind!"

Raoul wanted to stay and help Christine, but he heeded the Phantom's words and broke into a run. He ran even after he got out. He ran all the way home, collapsing on his front door. He would stay in the cold until he awoke tomorrow. He would leave Paris first thing.

**(A/N: happens when Raoul is still there.)**

Christine's hands still clutched Raoul's sword. She tried to pull it out, but it brought a horrible, sickening pain. It made her whole body shudder in the shock of it. Blood was oozing from the blade, dripping from her hands, and she looked down. She shuddered again, but this time it was in horror. She couldn't believe he actually…_impaled_ her. That wasn't supposed to happen.

She looked back up and met with Raoul's eyes of blue, before feeling darkness creep up on her. She wouldn't let it drown her, so she fought back. Christine heard Raoul saying 'sorry' over and over again. She wasn't cross with him, but she forgave him anyway. More shouting. _Erik! He's so angry! _She wanted to tell him to stop yelling, but she couldn't.

She suddenly felt very cold and began to shiver uncontrollably before she forced herself to relax; even though she wasn't scared. All the hard work to control her body made her exhausted and she fell backwards. Erik was still behind Christine, and he caught her, and slid them slowly to the ground. He gently laid her on the ground beside him. He instructed sternly, "CHRISTINE! Listen to me! Listen to my voice, Cherub! DON'T fall asleep, no matter what!" He was amazed that she didn't scream or howl in pain; at the same time, it made him worry more than he already was.

**(A/N: Raoul has run.)**

He leaned over her and said, "Hold on to me and do whatever it is that you need to do, be it scream or cry, but DO NOT succumb to the darkness. Alright?" She nodded and latched onto his arm. He gave her a look of despair and said gently, "This will hurt me more than it will hurt you. It was mostly true. When he put a hand on her and the other on the sword, he felt her tighten her grip. He looked up and saw her eyes shut tight and biting her lip against the pain.

He broke down while he pulled the sword from her small body, agonizingly slow, so as not to tear any more tissue. It was a miracle that he was even able to do it, in his said state.

When Erik had the sword completely in his hands, he went into a violent mood swing. He yelled strings of curses at Raoul and chucked the sword across the room. It smashed against the wall, crashing loudly as it hit the floor. He was suddenly drained of his anger, and it was replaced with anguish.

He looked down at Christine, who was watching him, trying to read his actions. He leaned over her, and she grabbed his arm again. He locked eyes with hers, but couldn't allow himself to gaze into them anymore because of guilt. He looked down at where the blade had been. Her hand was there, covering it up, and he put his hand on hers before weeping again. When he glanced up, he saw that she had turned her head to the side and was silently crying.

Erik put an arm underneath her legs, and one under her back. He scooped her up and carried her to his swan bed, laying her gently on it. He was still crying softly, and he moved a curl from her face. She looked up lovingly at him and put a delicate hand on his cheek. "It's that bad, huh?" It was more of a statement than a question. She continued quietly, "I did the only thing I knew how…It doesn't matter anymore. It's over." She looked at a red spot that she saw from the corner of her eye.

"Erik, you're hurt!"

He shrugged it off, "It's just a scratch, no big deal."

She pressed on, "Erik, I saw what he did to you. Do you have any broken ribs?"

He shook his head. "Christine, stop worrying about me. I'm fine. It is you, that I worry about. I don't know what do to!"

Christine turned pale and it was obvious that she was fighting sleep. "Just stay with me, Erik. You're here…that's all I need to know." She whispered, "I love you…" Her hand found his and she squeezed it weakly. She gave him a small smile before loosening her grip. She closed her eyes, not being able to fight sleep any longer.

This deeply frightened Erik and he put both hands on her face and stared at her eyelids as if they would open for him. He called her name, each time with no response, and he repeated it with more desperation and anguish. After the fifth call, he gave up and held her head to his shoulder, and wrapped his other arm on the small of her back. He sobbed quietly and stroked the back of her head.

It seemed like eternity to Erik, but he didn't **dare **let go. He put his mouth against her ear and pleaded softly, "Christine, you have to fight this! You can do it, I know you can! Please…just wake up. Please do it for me, your Angel." He continued with urgency in his voice. "You promised you wouldn't leave me…I love you, Christine, and don't you forget it. You hear me? Don't worry, I'll take good care of you. I will even sing if you want me to! Just please…wake up!" He shook with sobs, gasping for air every now and then. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her cheek lovingly. When she still didn't respond, he did the only thing he could think of. He laid her back down gently and kissed her lips ever so softly. He started to pull away, but was stopped by a very small response. She kissed back weakly, but it was definitely her. When she turned her head to the side and broke the tender kiss, she murmured helplessly, "Erik…help me…I'm dying, I can feel it."

His eyes filled with tears, but he said, "Don't say such things, Cherub! You're not going to…to…die. We will work on this together! We **will** get through this! I love you too much to let that happen!"

Erik took off his shirt and ripped it as if it was a piece of parchment paper. He wrapped some strips around his hand and applied pressure on her wound. She squirmed a bit under the painful pressure and suppressed the urge to scream. He knew, by her death grip, that he hurt her. His stomach twisted into a knot and his heart felt as if someone ripped it out and tore it to shreds. He took his hand off and said between shuddering gasps, "I'm sorry….I c-can't do this….I won't! I don't want to hurt you."

She was touched by his kindness, but she took his hand and placed it back where it was, applying pressure on it again. Despite the pain, she spoke, "Keep it there."

Erik looked like he was going to object, but he only nodded and placed his other hand on her forehead, brushing away the curls from her slightly damp skin. After about ten minutes, the strips had completely soaked through, and her blood stained his hands. He had to change the strips and cleverly, he had Christine to wrap clean ones on his other hand while he palmed the ends of them. He quickly swapped hands, being careful not to suddenly apply more pressure while switching.

After ten more minutes of silence, she finally stopped bleeding. He saw that her lips turned blue and thought that she might be could, but observed that she wasn't shivering. He suddenly understood what it was. He asked cautiously, "Christine, I think I need to remove your corset…if you will allow it." She nodded, unable to speak anymore.

He helped her out of her dress, revealing her stiff article of clothing. He moved to untie the front v-neck. He then gently turned her to the side, so he could unclasp the little metal clasps that held the wings closed. He silently cursed the inventor as he worked. He finally unclasped the last one and had to pry open the wings, like two front doors. He cursed aloud when he had to unlace the last restraints.

Erik finally got her out of it, leaving on her chemise; it was not bothering her. He rolled her on her back and asked, "Better?" She nodded. He noticed that her lips turned from blue to a pale color, not the usual healthy pink. Curious, he put a finger on her lip and recoiled. _Stone cold to the touch._ He stood up and reached for a very soft blanket, softer than flannel. He wrapped it around himself and sat back down. Christine stared at him, wondering what he was doing. The material it was made of quickly absorbed his body heat, and he covered Christine with it. She was deeply grateful…she was cold.

She almost immediately fell asleep, surrounded by his warmth and his exotic cologne. She LOVED the smell of him, and that was how she always knew that he was there in the days that he played as her Angel. He asked what he could do for her, but her eyes were already closed and she shrugged. She unknowingly muttered, "Don't know. Go ask Antee."

She was almost asleep when she felt Erik climb in beside her. His hand instinctively found hers, and he said casually, "I love you."

She looked at him and replied sleepily, "I love you too, Erik."

He waited for her to fall asleep before checking her vital signs and running into the secret passageway that leads to Mme. Antoinette Marie Giry's room. He stopped on his way, to get his mask and put it on. He kept thinking that he forgot something, but couldn't put his finger on it.


	3. Private Lessons

**A/N: This one is a filler introducing another new character. R&R please!

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**2. Private Lessons **

Madame Giry was in her room giving private ballet lessons to her most favorite student. She didn't like to play favorites, but there was no denying that this one was born for ballet. The young, vibrant girl of 16, already surpassed her classmates, and she begged Madame Giry to be her teacher. Antoinette had not been happy for a long time, up until the girl asked her the favor. She humbly accepted the honor, flattered to be asked such a thing.

During their time spent together, every evening after dinner except on weekends, they became closer. Each session brought joy and laughter, and Mme. Giry almost became dependant on the girl's company. They even got together on weekends just to chat. They often made fun of Carlotta, André, and Firmin. She knew it was wrong, but even she had to cut loose when Chessie was around.

Her humor and her smile was enough to break down anyone's brick walls. She was quite unlike anyone else, save Erik. She was different in every positive way; everywhere she went, it was as if she brought the sun, beaming with every ray it could emit from its fiery core. If the room was gloomy, her presence alone made it seem majestic.

She had her own fiery core, something no one dared to have in 1871. It was bittersweet; as she was assertive and yet very reserved. She knew when to hold her tongue. An interesting person, indeed. She took crap from no one, unless it was helpful. She didn't like it when other people were put down either. She once defended a complete stranger when he was wrongly appointed subject to nasty rumors. Rumors. She hated them. It was the only thing she hated. Mean people, she disliked, but never found it in her compassionate heart, to hold a grudge. Forgive and forget was her motto.

She was hard to stir, but once she was angry, she let it out. She was never angry for a long time, the longest being two hours. That was the time when Carlotta was torturing a poor ballet girl for accidentally stepping on her dress train. Chessie went to her defense, of course, the result of Carlotta loathing _her_ instead. From then on, Carlotta became a nuisance to her. Or so _she_ thought. Half of the time, Chessie didn't even hear a word she said….or rather screamed. The other half, Mme. Giry came to her rescue.

Chessie's compassion for all living things reminded Antoinette of Christine. Oh, how she missed that innocent little girl! She loved her with all her heart, just like a daughter. Then…she tempted fate by falling in love with Erik, whom she loved like a brother and a son. She was devastated to learn of their deaths. Just when things couldn't have gotten worse, Meg got fed up with her mother's "lies" and left Paris. Antoinette was alone until this adorable, charming young woman came and saved her. Chessie even resembled Christine in a way…same dark brown hair gloving past her shoulders, same growing beauty, and same age. She was a little shorter, and much louder. Both shared an unmatched kindness by anyone but them. Her eyes were a deep, dark brown. No, not even brown. More like a pure maroon. Mme. Giry had never seen any eyes of that color, not even Christine's. It was another of Chessie's trademarks, an endless list.

"Good! Now, try it again with your back straight, when you come back up for the finish."

"K." was the reply. She started in the middle, and finished just as Madame Giry instructed. Applause was the confirmation of her teacher's satisfaction. Antoinette was so delighted, she couldn't contain herself any longer, and she hugged a very surprised Chessie.

"I have no doubt that you will someday take my place. Perhaps, you will even be a better instructor than I!"

Chessie smiled brightly, and then blushed in modesty. She was very flattered for two reasons: the compliment, and the knowledge of their trust, as Mme. Giry let her guard down while bringing it back up for everyone else but her. She was also a little sad at the thought of Mme. Giry retiring, not that it'll happen soon, but it had to happen someday. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a closet door being busted down. Both women jumped about a foot in the air. A very tall man with a white mask appeared before them in the shadows.


	4. A Race Against Time

**A/N: Thank you, my dear reviewersss! This story is just getting better and better. Oh yesss….I've got BIG plans…unfortunately…I don't think I'll kill Raoul. I've got other plans for him as well. Death is not as painful as the knowledge that you're still alive after that…it will only make him suffer more…(Evil grin with manical laughter) That will be all.

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3. A Race Against Time**

Madame Giry stared at the man with a hand on her mouth and wide eyes. Chessie was the first to recover, and she clasped a hand over her heart. She spoke firmly, but with a playful tone, to lessen the tension.

"_Good Lord_, man! Don't you know how to _knock_?" She raised an eyebrow to emphasis her question. She couldn't believe she didn't hold her tongue; he could have been a kidnapper or another peeking tom. She seemed to have more peeking toms, nowadays…

At her boldness, Antoinette shot her an amused, but thoroughly shocked glare. Erik couldn't decide if he should be angry with her outburst, or to laugh at her tone. Nobody spoke to him like that, except Christine.

He hadn't counted on Madame Giry to have company, but he moved out of the shadows towards her. This time, Antoinette spoke, with deep concern.

"ERIK! You're bleeding! What have you done to yourself to get those nasty bruises? And WHERE is your SHIRT?" She looked him over and saw that he had two bandages that were wrapped around him more than once.

She said, "You've got some explaining to do!"

Erik looked at Chessie who shrugged and started for the door. He pulled Antoinette toward the passage way that he came saying, "I haven't the time to explain. Come quickly!" He paused and looked back at Chessie. "Since you're already here, you might as well come with us. I'll explain later!"

Chessie knew that this man posed no threat if he knew her teacher. She also noted the desperation in his voice as he spoke. She ran behind them, until "Erik" slowed down.

He ran quickly for a man so greatly injured, and both women had a hard time keeping up with him.

When he came to a complete stop, they both bumped into him. He turned around, took Antoinette's hand, and sadly strode to some stairs. Antoinette had no idea what was going on, but knew it was serious. She was dreading the last step.

When she reached the top, Erik still in front, she saw his swan bed dimly lit, by some candles. She was completely confused by now, but he moved out of the way, letting go of her hand. She looked on the bed and almost died. Erik had to push her gently towards Christine, and signaled to Chessie to stay there.

He then gave Mme. Giry the side of the bed with a chair, just inches from the bedside. He walked to the other side to give her some room. Mme. Giry could not think for a split second, and she plopped onto the chair. She watched as Erik sat on the bed and lowered himself level to Christine's ear. He whispered something inaudible to anyone but Christine. She slowly opened her eyes and focused them onto Antoinette. She blinked, but her half-mother didn't disappear. She was still unsure and she asked sleepily, "Antee?"

Mme. Giry replied, "Yes, I'm here. You poor thing…" Antoinette saw that Christine was pale, and she looked like a skeleton. She thought that Christine had fallen deathly ill when she saw that her forehead was damp with sweat. She looked back up at Erik.

"How long has she been ill?"

Erik shook his head and pulled the covers to Christine's waist. Her hand was covering her wound, and it didn't look like she had been hurt, except that she had blood on her hand. Antoinette assumed that she touched Erik's gash, or something along the line. She watched Erik gently take Christine's hand from her wound. Christine instantly tried to put it back, but he had a firm hold on her. She gave up, too tired to fight back. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see Antoinette's reaction.

Antoinette gasped and put a hand over her heart. After a few silent moments, she said angrily but quietly, "Who did this?"

Erik turned his gaze from Christine's eyes to Mme. Giry.

"Not now, Marie. I'll explain later, right now," He looked back at Christine, tears in his eyes, "We need to help her. Please help her!"

Marie was stunned at his sudden emotion. She didn't know he loved her this much. She silently promised herself that she would help them, no matter what. She nodded.

Chessie walked over and put a hand on Marie's shoulder. She looked up and wrapped an arm around Chessie's waist. They had forgotten that she was there! Chessie didn't say anything, knowing it was the best thing to do right now. She was deep in her thoughts when she saw Christine up close. I know _I've seen her before! Wasn't she…Meg's best friend before…Whoa. He's the Phantom! Wow. I can see why she went with him. If Madame Giry knew him, then why didn't she tell me? And what's her name? I know it…something like, Kristy…Kirsten…Chris…tina? WAIT! It's Christine Daáe! She's the one I defended against Carlotta! Oh, she has gone very far from the girl she once was!_

While in thought, she had unconsciously walked over to the bedside. She winced when she saw the wound. She sat down on the edge, legs hanging over the side, and touched the back of Christine's hand lightly. Christine turned her gaze from Erik to look at her. She squinted in recognition, searching for a name.

Chessie remembered that she never told Christine her name.

She said cheerfully, "Forgive me, Miss Daáe, I have never told you my name! I'm Chessie Renée Lapierre. You can call me Chessie, or Renée." She smiled and Christine couldn't help but put on a weaker one.

Christine felt a little better at her light tone. She replied, "Nice to meet you…Chessie! What a beautiful name. It fits." She smiled and Chessie blushed in modesty again. "You can call me Christine. Where have I seen you before?"

"I believe it was under the influence of Carlotta."

Christine laughed softly, but she couldn't hold in an 'ouch'. Chessie's face fell, and she felt guilty for causing her pain. "I'm sorry! I'll leave you be. Shall I come back another time?"

Christine shook her head, "No, stay! You're fine. I do remember that incident. Such a perfect way to put it!"

Marie took Erik aside while the two women engaged in light conversation.

"Erik, would you please tell me what happened here? And what have you done so far to help her situation?"

"Marie…when she wishes me to tell you, I will. Until then, I must keep my word, and take care of her! I have only stopped the bleeding and stayed by her side. I also had to take off her corset, because she was having trouble breathing. I suppose we should wash her wound and stitch her up…"

Marie nodded, "We need to do it quickly…I saw signs of infection and a slight fever. If it gets worse, it will turn into a hemorrhage, or pneumonia."

Erik hung his head and walked into the kitchen to get some supplies they needed. He got a bowl of water and some rags.

Chessie saw progression in Christine's mood, but knew she was getting worse, as she slowly turned paler and her eyes looked sunken with dark circles around them. Her lips were a sickly, pale color as well, and her skin was coated with perspiration. She knew that Christine found it harder to talk or keep her eyes open. Chessie watched as Christine thought for a moment, after a long silence.

Her voice sounded forced and painful. "Could you…could you get….Erik for me…please? Don't…tell them what…you know, ok?"

Chessie nodded solemnly and turned to go, but stopped at the whisper. "Thank you…for everything…and for lending an ear. I only wish…we knew each other…before this…and more later on…" She closed her eyes, exhausted just by talking, and did not open them again. Chessie ran to the side and gently shook her. "Christine! Hang on, I'll get Erik. Oh, don't go yet!"

She ran to Mme. Giry and pulled her to Christine. "We were talking, and she wanted me to get Erik, and she…" _She what? Passed out? Died? Fell asleep? WHAT?_ She decided on the safer answer, hoping that was the right one. "She...passed out!"

Marie instructed her to get Erik as fast as she could.

Erik was already in the room with the cleaning supplies when he noticed a lot of commotion. He dreaded finding out what it was about, but Chessie appeared at his side, and took the supplies, walked to Marie, and handed her the things. She then walked back to Erik, who had not moved a muscle. Chessie gently took Erik's arm and led him to Christine. When they got to the foot of the bed, she let go and pushed Erik to her.

"She needs you right now, Erik Go to her."

Normally, he would not have let a stranger into his home, much less, INVITED. But both, he and Christine seemed to take a liking to her. Marie seemed to cherish her. Besides, she posed no threat.

He wanted to go to her, but was afraid that any sudden movement might break her frail body. _She looked so sick…but still as beautiful as ever. _His eyes widened at her sight, and almost fell to his knees. He looked on her and very cautiously touched her face, as if he was holding his hand out for a dog to sniff him. He didn't want to believe it. He refused to believe it. _She was okay, she was just sleeping. Candle light can certainly play tricks on the mind. _He took her hand and said softly growing louder, "Christine? I'm here. You'll be okay! You'll be okay, right? Right? Christine?"

He gently took her head in his hand and it lolled to the side. _My God…she's like a rag doll. How could I have let this happen? GOD DAMN IT, ERIK! This could have been prevented if you had listened to her! _

He looked up at Mme. Giry with despair. "Why isn't she answering me?"

Marie was dabbing Christine's forehead with a damp rag, and she replied softly, "An infection, indeed. A high fever, malnutrition, and dehydration…she's a strong woman. She is very lucky that she is still alive." She paused to fold down the blanket a little past Christine's waist. "She's weak, Erik, and if she survives tonight and possibly tomorrow, she'll be fine. Her body is exhausted and it will attempt to heal itself. This means that she will be in a comatose state for as long as it needs to." She instructed Erik to turn around, and waved Chessie over. Together, they pulled Christine's chemise up past her wound, and replaced the blanket back over her waist.

When Erik turned around again, his eyes were red. Mme. Giry told Chessie to take Erik into the kitchen to prepare food, and went to finish the cleaning and stitching.

Chessie tried to lighten Erik's mood by telling him what she thought about André and Firmin. At her confession, Erik did indeed laugh. He was relieved that he wasn't the only one who thought that they were gay.

She was glad that she could bring at least some light to this poor man's darkness.

Christine told her everything….how it happened….and she was furious.

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**A/N: OOh...I wonder what Chessie is going to do...Guess we'll have to find out, won't we, dearies? Ha, OKAY! I think that little 'go' button is beckoning you. Please give in to it.**


	5. Forever Love

**A/N: In this chapter, Erik sings to Christine a love song from Reba McEntire. It's slow and beautiful. The title is the same title as the Chapter.

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**4. Forever Love**

When Erik and Chessie finished liquefying some food, they brought it back to Mme. Giry. She had just finished stitching up Christine when they walked in. She stood up and walked over to Erik.

"I am finished. Perfect timing, dear. Now, do you know how to feed her?"

"No."

"Alright. I'll show you."

She sat on the bed and cradled Christine. She had Chessie hand her a spoon, with which she dipped into the bowl. She spoke as she demonstrated.

"Put the spoon in her mouth, like you would yours, and then gently rub on the throat to stimulate a swallowing action. She will be able to swallow if you do it correctly. Don't put too much pressure, you might choke her. Never allow her neck to go straight up, or to the side. If this occurs, the food might go into the airway. Now, you try."

Erik went to the side, and Marie handed her to him. _She is so light…_ He did just as she showed him, and he felt a surge of hope. He gave Marie a small smile and said, "Thank you, for everything. I cannot tell you how much you have helped. You should go now. Get some rest."

"Are you sure? If you need anything, just come and get me, or Chessie. I wish you luck, and I will be back tomorrow to check on you."

He was glad that she didn't object, and bowed, indicating her passageway. He didn't have to of course, but this was for Chessie to know. He did enjoy her company, and granted her permission to return.

Chessie curtseyed before going into the passage with Mme. Giry, back to their rooms. When they got there, Chessie went to her room saying that she was very tired. They bid each other good night, and went their separate ways.

Erik was relieved that they were gone. He didn't want to show them anymore of him than he already had. It would ruin his reputation. No matter how hard he tried to pretend, he still had emotions; he was still human, still felt pain and joy like everyone else. He may be different, but he was a man. A man that couldn't be loved until now. A man that never thought he could love another. But he did, he loved Christine with all his heart and soul.

He looked down at Christine in his arms and put down the spoon. He felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions, and it scared him. He could not hold in his emotions, and he held her tighter to him. He cradled her small frame in his large one. They fit perfectly into each other. He resisted the urge to weep. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, so he did it in the only way he knew how: through music. He sang to her this promise:

**The first time I laid my eyes on you I knew  
We'd spend this life side by side  
I still feel the same though you're so far away  
I swear that you'll always be my **

Forever love  
I promise you  
Someday we'll be together  
Forever love  
I won't give up  
No matter what  
I'll be waiting for you  
Forever love

Minutes and hours and years may go by  
But my heart knows nothing of time  
So don't cry, just keep me right there  
In your dreams  
And hold on to these words of mine

Forever love  
I promise you  
Someday we'll be together  
Forever love  
I won't give up  
No matter what  
I'll be waiting for you  
Forever love

Love is the road to our destiny  
Nothing can change what is meant to be

Forever love  
I promise you  
Someday we'll be together  
Forever love  
I won't give up  
No matter what  
I'll be waiting for you  
Forever love

He gently put her down on the bed and lay on the side. He remembered something that Marie had said, and he picked up a rag. He soaked it with water and wrung it out. He then put the rag to her lips to moisten them. Erik knew that he would have to do this until she woke up, and he wondered when that would happen.

He threw the rag into the bowl and lay back down beside her. Without thinking, he began to speak.

"Christine, when you wake up, we shall get married to celebrate! Would you like that? I hope so. If you wake up tonight, we will get married, if that is your wish. I only hope that it will be soon!" He couldn't hold it in any longer and he broke down saying, "Christine…please wake up soon! I miss you so much…I know you can't be healed in one night, but we can only hope!"

It has been two weeks, going on three since Christine fell into a coma. Each day and night, Erik stayed by her side and took care of her. Mme. Giry often came to check on him. Some days, she caught him weeping, and left. She didn't want to invade his privacy. Each day, he would sing to her his promise, to renew it, to strengthen his hope.

He saw that her color turned to normal after a few days, but still had the fever. He guessed that the infection left her, and only the fever remained. He had not seen Chessie since the first night he met her.

Chessie had a good reason for her absence. Little did they know, she was planning some sort of revenge. The thought startled her, she was such a gentle creature, and the thought of hurting someone else both frightened and thrilled her. She wanted to try something new, and for once, she was able to hold a grudge on a person. She never knew that she could feel so much hatred toward some egotistical fop. But she did. He hurt Christine, and he would pay for it.

On some nights, she snuck into Erik's home and saw him weeping or singing for Christine. Each time she saw them, she had to leave the scene and cry somewhere where no one would find her.

Christine was a sweet soul, and she didn't deserve to be in so much pain. She felt that they had been best friends forever, even though they only spoke for one night. _Oh yes…he would pay dearly._ She would see to it. She started to think of a plan in her head, but stopped, appalled at her own thoughts. _Oh God…what am I doing? How do I have so much hatred inside me? Why? Is this a hidden side of me? I always knew there was something else…is this it? Am I really capable of this feeling? Can I really go through with this? I'm going insane…but…I like it. I feel so free. Is this the real me? No…it can't be! I won't let it!_

She couldn't handle all of the two-faced feelings anymore, and she sobbed into a pillow. She knew that this wasn't really her. It couldn't be. Did she have this…_demon_ inside her all along? Was it waiting to bust through at the right moment? Was this the side of her that made her assertive?

She stopped crying and she stood up, as if nothing happened. She cracked her knuckles and put on a smirk that even she didn't know she could do. It made her look scary. She liked scary. It was something different. She swiftly got up and put on some pants and a shirt. She put her hair up, put on a cap and cloak, and tried to decide which thing she would take with her: a rope, or a sword. She chose both. Chessie then left the building, ready to pay an unsuspecting victim a visit. She wouldn't kill him. Just hurt him, and maybe, she would knock some sense into him.

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**A/N: DUN DUN DUUUNNNNN! MWAHAHAHAHAAA! Jeeze...talk about PMS...lol. **


	6. Events of an Alley

**A/N: Here it is…another new character. That will be all. There is abuse in this chapter, so be forewarned. I'm so sorry I haven't posted this sooner, but I got grounded, and I kinda snuck this one on…**

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****5. Events of an Alley**

Chessie made her way to an alley that was a shortcut to the De Chagney's villa. She was going over her plan, when she heard a cry in the night. She immediately jumped into the nearest shadow, completely invisible. She inched closer to the shadows, dancing on the brick walls. She studied the moving forms and saw a man and a woman. The man had a grip on the woman's wrists, and it looked like she was struggling to get away.

Chessie stood there watching, to make sure it wasn't what she thought it was. Then she heard the cry again, "No, stop! Let me go!" the woman kicked the man and it landed on his shin. He only yelped and backed her to the wall, slamming her hard against it.

This time, it was clear what was happening. She moved closer, still in the shadows until she could see them. The man was obviously drunk; she could smell it on him and the way he moved gave him away.

The woman made another attempt to free herself from his grasp. The man grunted and slapped her hard across the face. She gasped and didn't turn her head to look at him any longer. He forced her on the ground,

Chessie's anger took over her again, and she moved silently right behind him, still invisible. She uncoiled her Punjab lasso and threw it over the man's neck. It was amazing how much power it gave her. The man made gagging sounds and clawed at the rope, which was tightening around his neck. She jabbed her sword in his back and he squeaked. She didn't puncture him, only poked him.

She then lowered his ear to her lips from behind, so he would not see her face. She spoke in an icy voice she didn't know she was able to do, "Monsieur, I suggest that you look back on this night before you think about drinking again. Goodnight." The voice scared him so bad, he leaked his pants and started to tremble. The way her voice came out made the back of her neck prickle, with the fine hairs that stood on end. She smelled victory: urine. She smiled in the dark, and tightened the rope again. It was all that he could manage, and his knees buckled. She let go of the rope, only when she saw that he was knocked out.

The woman was scared out of her mind and she pressed her back into the wall as much as she could, trying to melt into it. She huddled in the corner, holding onto her knees tightly when she saw the stranger come towards her.

Chessie recognized the girl. She also lived in the Opera house. She was a very shy person, and spoke only when spoken to. Another ballet rat, but nonetheless, a good one at that. She didn't know her name, though.

Chessie put her sword back in its sheath and walked towards the trembling girl. The moonlight shone down on her face of porcelain, and sent blue streaks on her dark blonde hair. She noticed a large red mark on her face, and softened. She bent down in front of her, looked in her green eyes, and spoke softly,

"It's alright; he's not going to hurt you anymore." She reached out and touched the girl's shaking arm. The woman jumped and Chessie rolled her eyes.

She sighed, "Look, I'm not going to hurt you either. See?" She took off her cloak and cap. She shook her head and her hair flowed down past her shoulders, revealing her gender. The girl's eyes widened in recognition. "I know you! You're…"

"Yes, I'm Chessie; you live at the Opera house too?" The girl nodded and said, "I'm Jillian, but people call me Jill. Than-"

"Don't. I'm not worthy of any praise." Chessie turned her head away from Jill and whispered more to herself, "I hurt someone…and that voice…it wasn't mine."

Chessie inched closer and saw that the large red mark was the shape of a hand and the edges were turning purple. She gently reached out, touched Jill's face, and said sadly, "That's going to leave a nasty bruise tomorrow."

Jill flinched when Chessie touched her bruised cheek, but relaxed and nodded in agreement. She looked away, not wanting to see Chessie's look of pity.

Chessie suddenly remembered the other things the man did and spoke up. "Did…did he…do anything else to you?" She felt relieved when Jill shook her head, but she somehow didn't believe it.

She looked concerned and said softly, but firmly, "Let me see your wrists."

Jill very reluctantly held out her wrists, palms up. Chessie bent to examine them and she could see big finger marks, pressed so hard on her skin, she could almost make out fingerprints. Her wrists were already a dark bluish purple, no doubt, her face will match it soon. She let out a angry growl and moved so suddenly, it made Jill jump.

Chessie strode gracefully at the man lying on the alley's street and wrapped the rope around her hand. She rolled him over and grabbed his collar, pulling him up. She gave Jill the most frightening look. It had the glint of a murderer's. Her voice changed from sweet and mellow to cold and icy again.

"See this rope? All I have to do is give it one more tug, and his neck will snap. It will kill him instantly. That's all it takes, I can end it quickly. I'll kill him if you wish it."

Jill gathered her courage and stammered out, "No! D-don't kill him…you've done enough, thank you. Let's just go home…please!"

Reality hit Chessie and she gasped. The evil look was gone and was replaced with horror. She immediately released the rope and his collar. He fell to the ground with a sickening thud. She backed away; terrified at the anger that almost cost a life. _Oh God…what is happening to me?_ She went to Jill and extended a hand to help her up. She took her hand, and was surprised when Chessie hugged her. She tensed in pain, from where he slammed her against the wall, but hid it.

Chessie let go and the rest of the way home was in silence except when Jill was cold, she couldn't hide it and Chessie put her cloak on her. She didn't mind, she was burning up in shame, guilt, and anger, so she didn't need it.

She led Jill to a wall made of vines and reached in, feeling around for the knob. She found it, and opened the secrete door, instructing Jill to follow. They got into the opera house, and Chessie suggested Jill should stay at her place, until she figured out something to say, should anyone ask. They went through a tunnel that ended in the hall of the dormitories. You wouldn't know it was there unless someone showed it to you.

Chessie opened the door to her room, and asked Jill if she would like something to eat or drink, to which she said she would. When she came back, she had two cups of tea and sat opposite of Jill while they chatted. Jill noticed a grand piano in the corner and asked, "You play too?"

Chessie laughed and said, "Yes, do you?"

Jill smiled and nodded in excitement. Chessie was glad that they could focus on something else, and led her to the piano.

The two took turns impressing each other for the next two hours.


	7. The Accomplice

**A/N: Sorry about the delay, I'm still grounded, and will be for quite awhile, so be patient, posting will be extra slow, but I'm trying! I'm way ahead of myself…too many chapters already written out that need to be typed and posted! AAACKK!**

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****6. The Accomplice**

When two hours were up, Chessie showed Jill to the bedroom, said goodnight, and went to sleep on the couch. She was almost asleep when she suddenly shot up. She quickly scratched out a note, in case Jill woke up or needed something. When she was satisfied, she put on her cloak, knowing that where she was going was very cold at night.

Chessie made her way to a rug that was in the middle of the room and lifted a corner piece. There, under the rug, she found the trapdoor. She made sure that Jill was not in the room before pulling it open. Luckily, the hinges had oil on them, so she was able to open it stealthily. She climbed on the ladder until her waist was level with the floor and grabbed the rug. She lowered herself further down on the ladder, the door scraping on her back, while holding the rug so that it would go back in place when she shut herself in the passage.

The passage was narrow, moist, and straight. She ran as fast as she could until she came to an open area with a fork. She knew which one to take and quickly took the left tunnel. She soon reached the main open area, the heart of the cellars.

She started to run toward some stairs and called out in urgency, "Erik! I have to tell you something! Erik!" She had to lean on the wall to catch her breath when she got to the top of the stairs. Erik was surprised to see her, but more so at her attire.

He had been lying in bed next to Christine, when Chessie barged in.

He sat up and growled, "What do you want? Why are you wearing that? Pray tell, child!"

She walked closer and said between gasps of air, "Erik…I need…your help! I've done something…unspeakable, and almost…killed someone in the…process!"

"What did you do?" He asked wearily, unsure if he wanted to know.

"I nearly…strangled someone…to save someone else…on my way to…" She paused, not knowing how to put it. "…to get something back."

"Sit down before you hyperventilate! Explain to me…how such a girl like you can turn into a monster like me. Quickly now; I haven't much time." He paled at his statement and dreaded the question on her tongue. Sure enough, she asked.

"Thank you. Why? Where are you going at this time of hour?" She gave him a look of suspicion.

He replied quietly, "To kill the fop who did this." He looked away from her piercing stare, feeling invaded.

Her eyes widened and she almost mouthed-out, "That was where I was going," but came out as a whisper. It was Erik's turn to be shocked.

He blinked and shook his head in confusion, "What? What do you know! How do you know? Spill it, woman!"

"I know all. Christine told me. I promised her not to tell anyone what I know. I kept that promise, until just now. Now, not only do I feel possessed, but also like a traitor." She replied sadly. She went to Christine's bedside and sat on the edge, taking her hand. Chessie bent to Christine's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me!"

Erik surprisingly didn't feel any anger. If Christine told her, she did it because she wanted to. Chessie would have been told anyway when Christine woke up, if she hadn't known already.

A voice broke through his thoughts, "Erik, you look terrible. Have you been eating and sleeping like you should?"

"No." He admitted.

"You will waste away if you keep doing this to yourself."

He looked away then down at Christine. He replied dryly, "I'm already wasting away. Nothing can save me now, except perhaps…Christine."

Chessie felt a pang of grief and tears welled up. She gathered her voice and said firmly, "Don't say that! She is strong, she'll make it. Just give her some time!" She looked on the ground and continued quietly, "I was on my way to hurt the Vicomte. I couldn't kill him, just hurt him. I wish to finish what I started. Would you accompany me on one condition?"

He looked at her, startled that she would ask such a thing. _She did not even know who he was!_ He replied gruffly, "Yes, on what condition?"

She looked him straight in the eye and said, "That you do **NOT** kill him. My intentions to hurt him are directed towards his heart, not his body. Now do you understand?"

He stiffened. _She did know who he was…and yet, she shows no fear! Oh, God Almighty! Thank you for this…messenger!_

His mood lightened, "Yes, I will help you. I will go with you to finish what you started, under the condition. No one will know. But…" he quickly warned, "…should something go wrong, I will interfere. Crystal?"

She chuckled, "Clear! Thank you so much, Erik. I cannot tell you how important this is to me. I feel as if I need to do this for Christine, and I know you feel as if it is also a part of your responsibility. Knowing what you would do, I decided to take over."

He nodded, and Chessie turned to go. "I must return. My guest will not be happy if I abandon her for too long. Notes will be our means of communication, nothing more. I will decide the time when I am ready. You certainly aren't in your present state! Get some rest and some food. Farewell, Erik, take good care of her."

A full week was spent writing notes, bonding with Jill, and having lessons with Marie. It was like living a double life. Nothing exciting happened during that week, unfortunately. Chessie so desperately wanted a distraction from the grueling task that lay ahead. Even Carlotta would do.

Erik still has given no word on Christine's health, and she assumed that Erik has it under control. _Assumed? Of course he had it under control! He was so precise in what he did, and she saw the way that he handled Christine. She was in good hands.

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**A/N: Next chapter: will be up probably a while from now. Sorry. This one is not a cliffie.**


	8. The Unexpected

**A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! I'm sorry, but this chapter doesn't have the appropriate (holiday wise)steamy stuff in it, butthere will be attemptsin the chapters to come! R&R please!

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**7. The Unexpected**

Christine still has not awakened, and Erik was by her side singing his promise. When he finished, he gently squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek.

"Oh Christine…I have not given up, nor will I." He wiped a stray tear and took on a lighter mood. "You look a lot better today, Cherub! Perhaps it almost time for Chessie to come back…we're going to hunt down the Viscount. Don't worry, I won't kill him; Chessie will. I would literally kill him, but she insists that she kill him with that mouth of hers." He chuckled to himself then finished, "I have no doubt she'll get her point across; she's like a whip."

He looked up when he heard the dragging, yet graceful footsteps and saw Marie walk toward him, all the while staring at him. He momentarily felt annoyed that she would walk in so freely without a warning or a notice of some sort.

"How long have you been standing there?" He demanded.

"Long enough." She sighed, and dismissed the subject. "How is she? Chessie told me that you were not looking too well."

He ignored the statement. "She looks a lot better. Her health is progressing slowly, however…too slow for my patience." He remembered his good manners, "I'm fine if she is. Yourself?"

"Very well, thank you. Has the fever gone down anymore than it has?"

Erik felt plagued by her questions, as well as frustrated at her for making him think.

He looked down and murmured helplessly, "I don't know, Marie. How long will she be like this? I can't stand it anymore! It hurts me to see her pain." He turned his eyes from Mme. Giry's to the wall opposite of her, and whispered, "I don't know if I"ll be alive this time tomorrow."

Marie dreaded the answer, but asked softly, "Why? What is going to happen tomorrow?"

He struggled for the words, wishing he never said it. "I am only…twenty-seven…but it's in my…genes…" He looked back up at her sadly. "I feel it, Marie, it's going to happen."

She was getting impatient, "**What** is going to happen tomorrow, Erik, **WHAT?**"

He locked eyes with hers and said simply, "A heart attack. If Christine wakes up tonight or tomorrow, I don't think it will be as bad." He paused. "If she doesn't, I fear that pain and grief will surely kill me."

Marie had enough. She spat, "Don't be a martyr, Erik. You're **not** going to **_die_**." She saw an unnamable emotion in his eyes and challenged him, "What if she wakes up after you 'die'?" She knew she had him.

He put on a ghost of a smile, "Well, since you put it that way…I think I shall survive after all. I will live only on that hope." It hurt his ego to say it, but he managed to make it sound sincere, "Thank you."

Mme. Giry nodded and began to change Christine's bandages and checking Erik's bindings. When she finished, she told Erik that she would be back with some kind of medicine for him. He slightly smiled a silent gesture that said, "Ok", and lay back down beside Christine. When he heard Marie leave, he closed his eyes against the pain while he slowly turned to Christine.

"Damn ribs." He muttered.

Erik scooted closer, feeling more secure. He watched as her chest rose and fell softly, in a smooth rhythm. The pattern only changed once, when she suddenly took in a deep breath and released it soon after. His eyes went from there to her eyes. They still had the circles on them, but they were gradually lightening. He gently brushed away a curl and kissed her temple.

He whispered in her ear, "I love you so much, Christine. You continue to amaze me every second. Don't ever stop." He reached up and stroked her cheek lovingly, something he fell into a habit of doing. His eyelids finally felt heavy and before he sank into his world of darkness and dreams, he made sure she knew.

"**I love you, Christine…"**

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**A/N: Aww! I wish I had an Erik! Don't we all? sighs I'm still grounded, so updates will still be a little slow, but don't worry, I'll get them to you somehow...**


	9. To Be or Not to Be

**A/N: This is "it". Cross your fingers! R&R please!

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**8. To Be or Not to Be**

The night passed and morning came. Erik woke up late afternoon, feeling angry with himself for sleeping so late. He suddenly remembered his prediction and panicked. He calmed down when he looked over at Christine, relaxing when he remembered what Mme. Giry said to him last night.

He tried to get out of bed just to move around a little, but quickly learned that he was confined to the bed, thanks to a dizzy spell. He closed his eyes, but snapped them back open at the sound of footsteps. He looked up to see Mme. Giry walk in with a vial.

"Oh, Just in time."

She rolled her eyes, "Nice to see you too."

Silence.

"I have the medicine. Has this happened before?"

He closed his eyes, again feeling plagued. He rubbed his sore temples and sighed loudly in annoyance. "Yes. Yes I have; only once, however."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Must I tell you every detail of my life?"

"Erik! Why are you being so difficult?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Why not? I'm worried about you. You aren't taking this seriously." She instantly knew her last words were a mistake.

He raised an eyebrow in question, "Oh? You don't think I'm scared out of my mind that this may very well be the last time I see Christine; Scared that I will lose the only thing that matters because of this **GOD DAMN _SICKNESS_** that has taken over my _**wife;**_ That I will gain everything, only to lose it all anyway? **Everything I've done, everything I've lived for…proved to be a fruitless attempt to feel alive!**"

He had gotten out of the bed, and attempted to walk menacingly towards Marie, but was held back by an acute sting in his left arm. He paled quite notably from the angry red tint he turned as his anger rose. He grabbed his arm and scrambled back on the bed…if he was to die, he wanted to die beside Christine.

"Oh…shit."

It was only a matter of minutes until Erik was squirming on the bed, screaming agony, eyes darting about in pain. He violently ripped open his vest, popping off the small, plastic buttons that held it closed. He clawed at his blouse, but could not remove it. He gripped his chest instead, as his back arched from the unbearable shredding inside him.

Marie was no longer moved by his words. She was now terrified for him. _Do something!_ She remembered the vial and ran to him. She managed to hold him down long enough to pour its contents down his throat.

There was nothingmore she could do but wait for the medicine to work. The medicine would only ease his pain and help kill the attack, while at the same time, stimulate it enough sohis heartwould not stop beating. Erik had made it himself, and until now, she didn't know why he made it.

She wiped away an escaped tear and sat down in a chair to monitor him as the medicine began to take effect. His thrashing and whimpering ceased and he lay still. He panted both, from panic and from lack of oxygen in those brief moments.

After a few minutes, he suddenly felt the drowsy side effects of his concoction.

"Don't...tell Christine…"

"Erik, she's your fiancé; she deserves to know." She replied softly.

Surprisingly, he wasn't angry or annoyed. He knew she was right. He sighed and turned towards Christine, his sleeping beauty.

"I will tell her when the time comes. I don't want this to ruin everything."

Mme. Giry took his words in consideration and nodded. "Sleep; It is well needed by the both of us. I will return tomorrow to check on you two. Goodnight."

He closed his eyes in agreement, as he heard the departing footsteps. He held loosely onto Christine's hand as he fell asleep.


	10. Letting Go

**A/N: I have no idea when I will post again. I'm just posting when I get the chance! R&R!

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**9.Letting Go...**

_Ugh, I feel terrible…so painful. That voice…Erik! So beautiful…don't ever stop singing! _

Erik was singing his promise to Christine after finding that she still hadn't waken up. He sang to her because he was slowly losing hope. He sang it, and it replenished him. This time, he sang it more beautifully than he had before.

When he finished, he closed his eyes, trying to imagine that Christine was awake and singing with him. He filled up with tears when he saw that Christine's hand rested on her stomach. His eyes trailed slowly up from her hand, stopping briefly, at her slightly parted lips and proceeding to her face.

A sparkle caught Erik's eye and he watched it fall down her cheek horizontally. He gasped and put his face in front of hers, taking her face in both hands. He wiped away another tear.

He asked cautiously, "Christine?"

No reply.

He got nothing, and convinced himself that he was imagining things. He slumped back on his pillows and stared at the ceiling.

_I can hear you…why can't I reply back? What is going on? Why am I so tired and sore? I hope I'm not sick…I've got plans today._

She tried, with all of the remaining strength she had, to open her eyes. She managed to barely open them, but couldn't see much. As soon as her eyes focused beneath the small slits, she opened them a little more, taking in the scenery.

A few candles dimly lit the room, their wax melted and molded in globs that stuck to the sides. The soft, ethereal glow flickered and danced, weaving shadow and light on the stony walls. The red velvet of the bed and drapes trimmed in gold gave an artistic touch that somehow made it romantic, yet gloomy.

Christine never remembered the room ever being as it was…how long has she been in bed? She hoped that she didn't sleep in…Monsieur Reyer would not be pleased if she was late for rehearsal.

She lay there for a few more minutes before trying to sit up. She couldn't move a muscle. _What is going on?_ She squeezed her eyes shut when her damaged nerves protested against her movements. She was entirely immobilized and could do nothing but let out a painful groan. Erik heard the small sound and immediately went to Christine.

He grabbed her hand hopefully, "I'm here, Cherub!"

She fought to open her eyes, to see whom it was that spoke. _So familiar…_ It was when she saw his blue-green eyes that she recognized him.

"Erik? What time is it? I have rehearsal at ten o'clock." She again tried to sit up, but couldn't. A large hand gently held her still. She looked at him in confusion.

"Erik? Why do you keep me so? I cannot be late!"

He shook his head and returned her expression with a sad one. He spoke slowly, "Christine, you are ill. Do you know what day it is?"

She blinked. "Of course! It's April the fifth, why?"

His expression did not change. "You don't remember what happened….Oh Christine…I don't know how to tell you." He held her hand in his, and she held back tears at the look he gave her.

"W-What do you mean? Pray tell, how long have I been…sick?" Erik bowed his head to hide his tears. "Erik, love, look at me. I'm alright, whatever happened…we can put it past us. I feel fine except I'm a little sore." Erik only squeezed her hand gently and kissed Christine on her forehead. She pulled him into a light hug, and suddenly realized just how much she missed him. She was confused when she saw his tears, but didn't let go until Erik quieted his sobs. He wipedawayhis tears and kissed her face repeatedly, letting her know that he missed her too.

"Erik, you seem excited to see me…it has only been one night…"

He stopped. Voice thick with emotion, "Christine, it has been longer than one night." He paused and she waited to hear more. "It has been…a month since you last woke up." He saw the appalled look on her face and quickly explained.

"It was my fault…I could have killed him when I had the chance, or at least pushed you out of the way…" He took one hand in both of his and held it close to his chin. "Please forgive me, Christine! I swore to protect you and I failed! I'm so sorry, please forgive me…"

Her face changed and it held bewilderment. He took it as a bad sign and mumbled painfully, "I'll still love you if you decide to leave…"

She slipped her small hand from his large ones and grabbed the lapels of his waist coat, gently pulling him to her. When he was almost on top of her, she let go of the right lapel and cupped his chin, making him look her in the eyes. She started out in a stern tone, but it soon turned into a soft wave that drowned him with her voice and words.

"Erik…did we not go over this? Didn't we come to an understanding that I would NEVER leave you? When I say this, I mean it. I'm not lying. And you did not fail me; I'm not grading your love." She chuckled at her own little comment. He smiled. "Who was it that you should have killed?" She saw anger rise in him, but it died as fast as it came.

"The Viscount. He did this to you!" Erik spat.

He moved suddenly and yanked back her covers, gently putting his hand on Christine's stomach. She cried out in pain and gave him a bewildered look. He jerked back his hand, feeling guilty. She raised her chemise and felt queasy when she saw the vertical wound, still held together by stitches.

Suddenly, flashbacks came to her, and she remembered the whole thing. For a long while, she was silent. She snapped back into reality and looked at Erik with concern.

He was confused when she put her hand on his rib cage. She tenderly patted him, feeling a strange bulge beneath his blouse. She began to unbutton his shirt, and he looked away in dread.

Christine unbuttoned halfway and stopped, staring in utter sadness at the white cloth, wrapped tightly around his ribs. She realized what it was and barely touched the wraps, as if touching it would heal him. He gently took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

She gave him a pitiful look. "Erik…I'm sorry….I knew he hurt you somehow. I-I heard it…so…horrifying! I couldn't watch you die. That's why I ran in front. If I had known he'd stab me anyway, I would have pushed him. I…" She was cut off by his voice.

"Christine, it doesn't matter anymore. It's over. The time will come when he gets what he bargained for."

She instantly drew back. "No, don't kill him! It was an accident…just let it go."

"An **_accident_**, Christine? Oh yeah, you just **_happened _**to be in the way; **_Oops_**, I missed." He snapped.

He got out of the bed and fumed. He was fighting the urge to break something, and losing. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Christine was fighting tears and lost. She was frustrated at his outburst, and would not look at him.

He continued, calmer, but still loud. "I'm not going to kill him, but we can't pretend it didn't **happen**!"

She whipped her head towards him and sobbed out, "Why not, Erik? Our pasts will only bring us pain, and you know it! Why can't we just focus on our future?"

He raised his voice in a snarl, "**_BECAUSE HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF!_"**

She looked at the candles and murmured, "Are you implying that you wish me to leave? Do you wish to erase me because of the horrible things I did to you? I wouldn't blame you…I hate me too."

Erik's eyes immediately filled remorse. He cautiously walked to her side of the bed. When she didn't move, he dropped on his knees on the ground.

"Christine…I…no, I could never hate you! I never want you to leave my side again! I don't even know why I said what I did." When he got no reply, he continued. "I'm sorry, you're right, let's just focus on our future."

She wanted to forgive him, but she also didn't want to submit to him so easily. She said quietly, "May I have some time alone?"

He backed off and left the room without a word. Christine spilled all of her bitter tears when he left, until she finally fell asleep, lulled by Erik's violin.

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**A/N: Oh no! This was her first night awake too! I hope they reconcile soon!**


	11. Reconciliation

**A/N: R&R PLEASE!

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**10. Reconciliation**

It had been an hour since Christine sent him out and an hour that Erik had been playing his violin. At first, he played an angry tune and as his mood saddened, so did the song. He started playing 'Wandering Child' but caught himself and stopped. His anger diminished and he soon found that his violin was singing 'Forever Love', his promise.

He hoped that she could hear it. He had never sung it with the violin, but to his own surprise, he was able to play it as if he played it his whole life. He thought about the things that went on in the last two hours, and felt the strong urge to throw himself at her feet, not to grovel, but to ask for forgiveness.

Therefore, he put down his violin and picked up a single rose. He made his way to her room, checked his mask (out of habit), and knocked. He waited, but no reply.

"Christine, please let me in. I wish to speak with you." He still didn't hear a reply and tried again. "Are you alright? Please say something so I know you're ok…"

Nothing.

He was beginning to get panicky so he tried the knob. It was unlocked, and he silently went in. Erik walked quickly to her side of the bed and saw her eyes closed.

He managed to breath out, "Christine…?"

She was asleep, he realized. He relaxed tremendously, and put the rose on the nightstand so that it was out of sight. He turned back to her, dropping on his knees so that he was level with her face. He put his arms on the edge, and lay his head on the crook of his arm, watching her sleep. He couldn't resist lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his fingers. He looked at her adoringly while doing so. Erik practically worshipped her, and hated himself for causing her pain.

He tore himself away, appalled that he let himself get close to her. He looked back at her and his heart of stone turned into warm, beating flesh. He was determined to get what he came in the room for, so he gently placed a quick kiss on her forehead and put a large hand on her arm.

He whispered, "Christine, I need to tell you something. Please listen to me."

Erik slipped his hand in hers and she slowly opened her eyes. She saw him and turned the other way, remembering their fight. New tears formed, but she didn't let them fall. He knew she would still be angry with him.

He said softly, "I know I hurt you earlier, and I'm deeply sorry. I truly am! Please don't be angry with me anymore, I know what I did wrong…please forgive me."

He walked to the other side and lay down beside her. She turned on her back and looked towards the nightstand, away from his gaze. He deftly reached out to cup her chin and turn her head towards him.

"I love you with every fiber of my being, and even more so everyday. How can I hate you? It is me that I hate for hurting you at all. Don't you see? I am madly in love with you, and I want our future to happen, I really do!"

She looked in his eyes and saw nothing but truth. She still did not say anything. Convinced he wasn't going to have his way so easily, he sighed and walked to the nightstand. She turned on her side, watching him. He picked up the rose, which had been out of view, and gave it to her.

"See this? It is beautiful, yes, but your soul and your beauty far surpasses it. It is merely a flower that represents our love and my promise. I give this to you in asking you to marry me."

This time, she couldn't hold in the tears and he frowned. He tenderly wiped away her tears, on the verge of tears himself at the sight of hers. "Mon amour, please don't cry! I want us to get married tonight, in celebration of…of…you! Do you still want me?"

At his words, she only cried harder and before he could walk away, she pulled him in a long, forgiving hug. He held her until she pulled away.

"Erik…I cry out of joy! Of course, I still want you! I too find myself falling madly in love with you, and this argument has only strengthened _us_."

Erik was so full of love, he hugged her again, awkwardly, as she was sitting up and he was standing. When he let go, she did not. She held him arms length and really looked at him. He sat down on the edge and pulled her to him once more in his embrace. He nuzzled his cheek against hers, kissing her temple before letting go again.

"I missed you so much!" he said quietly. She agreed and they sat in silence looking in each other's eyes. Erik inched closer; she turned her gaze to his lips then back into his eyes. Christine inched closer, the same thing on her mind, and lifted her chin slightly so he could touch his lips to hers. He moved in again, now just a breath away from her lips. Before he could kiss her, he lowered his head and backed away, just as she leaned in.

So she wouldn't feel stupid, he placed a kiss on her cheek shyly. She wanted his kiss, but she knew why he didn't kiss her. They wouldn't be able to control themselves. They would have to wait until they exchanged their vows.

She sighed in frustration, but asked, "Why do I still have stitches?"

He looked down at his closed hands and said, "Madame Giry said that I could take them out within this week or so. I was going to do it today, but you woke up. I can take them out now, if you wish."

She thought for a moment then nodded. "Will it hurt?"

He gulped. He hadn't thought about that until she mentioned it. "Depends. If you are awake, then yes. If I put you to sleep, well, then no. I think I will, I don't want to cause you anymore pain." He got up and left the room.

Erik returned with a shot of purplish liquid. He handed it to her, and she drank the bitter stuff without a word. She squinted and stuck out her tongue like a cartoon character. He laughed at her expression and she soon laughed with him. They quit laughing and he started to sing to quicken the effects. He stopped singing when he felt her hand go limp.

He quickly folded down the comforter, pulled up her chemise, and replaced the blanket to preserve her modesty. Erik then took small tongs and pulled out the stitches. When he was done, he tossed the tongs on the table and left his home. He went to get the marriage license and decided that they would have a ceremony later.

Erik walked back into her room and saw that she was still sleeping. He ran to her side and gently shook her awake.

"Christine! Christine! Look! We're married, see?" He held out the license and suddenly wide-awake, she squealed in delight. She sat up quickly, he picked her up, and they laughed in joy. He sat her back down and got in on the other side. He found her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"I know you want a ceremony, so we'll have it later, alright?"

She nodded and pulled his hand so that he was pulled into her embrace. She lifted her head from his shoulders and put her lips to his ear.

She whispered seductively, "You may now kiss the bride."

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**A/N: Just to let you know, nothing happens after she says that...because anything that does...happens next chapter! ; )**


	12. Bittersweet

**A/N: HI! I MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH! I wanted to post so many times, but I never got the chance. Currently, I have writer's block, but that's not your problem right now, because I have written sooo much since I last posted, it's ridiculous that I didn't stop and post before I got behind on that! UGH! I hope you can forgive me! Well, HERE IT IS! R&R PLEASE!

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_**Previously:**_

"**_Christine! Christine! Look! We're married, see?" He held out the license and suddenly wide-awake, she squealed in delight. She sat up quickly, he picked her up, and they laughed in joy. Erik sat her back down and got in on the other side. He found her hand and kissed her knuckles._**

_**"I know you want a ceremony, so we'll have it later, alright?" **_

**_She nodded and tugged his hand so that he was pulled into her embrace. She lifted her head from his shoulder and put her lips to his ear. _**

_**She whispered seductively, "You may now kiss the bride."

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**_

**11. Bittersweet**

Erik smiled and Christine adorably bit her bottom lip. He leaned in slowly, again, just a breath away from her awaiting lips. He let his mouth open just a little so he could breathe, but didn't move any further. She inched closer and he retreated, unsure if she would want him. He wanted to kiss her badly, but he was afraid that she would leave him.

_Damn it, Erik, just kiss her! NO! Push her away! Tell her to leave now; she will leave you anyway. Who would love a monster like you? Might as well save yourself the pain. _

His mind argued with his heart and he looked at her lips, deciding that she would not have agreed to marry him if she didn't want him. He moved in and lifted her head tenderly before tilting his head and inching closer still. He touched his lips to hers, finally, and felt her kiss him back with the same gentleness. Erik soon felt her hands on his face, and tensed when he felt her small fingers slip beneath his mask. He put a hand over his mask to keep it on, and she broke the kiss.

"Erik, no! This mask is another person, another identity. Its face is cold and ruthless, but my Erik has a beautiful face and a beautiful soul. I don't want you to hide from me, I know what is there," She said softly. "When I'm around, you need not wear it." She traced a finger lightly down his masked cheek.

She looked at him, silently pleading. She saw fear and love all tumbled in one inside him…and something else…_relief_. Erik finally submitted and allowed her to gently, pry the fine leather from his "horrible" visage. **(A/N: Remember: this is a Gerik phantom.)** As soon as she turned from him, to put the mask on the nightstand, he put his hand on his marred side, terrified without his shield. _When will I stop acting like a coward? It's not like she can see it anyway, it's dark and I'm on her right side. _When Christine turned back to him, she looked at him sadly, and shook her head. She cautiously reached up to put her left hand on the one hiding his face, making him look at her. She brought his face just inches from hers and cupped the unmarred side, looking directly into his uncovered eye.

"I love you Erik. All of you," She whispered.

She slowly brought his head down to hers again, and closed her eyes as her lips touched his, in the most gentle, yet loving kiss she could give him. She nuzzled her mouth against Erik's, barely touching his lips, as she opened and closed her mouth in butterfly kisses between the nuzzling. His unresponsive lips worried her until she felt him kiss her back in the same way, producing enormous sparks.

Erik was so lost in Christine's kiss that he failed to notice when she slowly took his hand away from his face and put it on her heart, holding it there. It was only when he felt the soft and fast fluttering of her heart, and when she pulled away, lingering over his lips before opening her eyes to see his reaction, did he notice that his hand was somehow removed from his face. He stared wide-eyed at his hand, now entwined with hers, still resting on her heart. He whimpered and she took his head in both hands again, and kissed every inch of his marred side.

He couldn't hold in his tears of joy any longer, and as he cried, he held onto Christine showering kisses onto her chestnut curls and on her porcelain face.

"Oh Christine…My Angel…you will never know how much I love you, for the answer lies in Tongues; words that only God can speak."

Christine's eyes moistened and she whispered back, "Je suis touché, Mon Erik, _Mon_ Pour Toujours Amour!" I am touched, My Erik, _My_ Forever Love!

Erik and Christine held each other for a while longer, just happy to be in the room together. It was a wonderful moment until Christine's body tensed. Erik pulled away, and noticed that she had put an arm between them, cradling her stomach. He looked at her concerned, but leaned down to give her a small kiss. He made her lay back down and covered her with a heavy comforter.

Before he stood up, he couldn't resist tracing her jaw line and placing another kiss on her forehead, a simple act of love. He made to stand, but Christine held onto the lapels of his jacket. He searched her eyes for an answer and she pulled him down closer. She gazed into his eyes and leaned up, barely lifting herself from the pillow, and kissed him again, this time with a slow passion. Erik was shocked at her sudden boldness, but then upon feeling the air change, he kissed her back in the same passionate way.

Christine released the lapels and slid her hands on his shoulders beneath the jacket, pushing it off him. He broke the heated kiss suddenly, and plopped back into his spot beside her, both breathing unevenly.

She was about to say something, when he caught his breath and said softly, "No, Christine. You need more time to heal. You can't even walk yet!"

She frowned, "I haven't even tried! Let me get up and prove you wrong."

Erik chuckled at the thought of her saying 'Told you so!' and agreed to let her try. "Alright, stay right there for a second." He picked up his jacket and hung it on the back of the nearest chair. He went out of the room to retrieve some matches from a shelf built into the wall, and came back. Christine sat up, watching him curiously, while Erik lit some more candles. He turned around and went to her, pealing the comforter off.

She slowly turned so that her legs dangled over the edge. Erik took her hands and put them around his neck, then put his hands at her waist. He hoisted her up and off the bed, gently setting her feet on the floor and not letting go until she told him to. The feel of gravity momentarily disoriented her and she started to shake. She looked at him with confidence and leaned against the bedpost as she regained her balance. Erik backed up, giving her room to walk, but kept his hands outstretched for her.

Christine put her right foot in front very slowly, then shakily, the left. She walked towards him, or rather shuffled, and tried to pick up the normal pace. When she did this, her foot caught on a wrinkle in a rug and she stumbled. She lost her balance and fell forwards, letting out a small shriek. Erik caught her and she clung onto him for dear life.

She looked up at him, expecting him to be gloating in triumph, but instead he was looking at her with deep concern. She suddenly felt very tired and couldn't help but shakily lean against Erik. He swiftly picked her up bridal style and tucked her in, humming softly. She thought that he would be the most wonderful father and husband the world has ever seen. When he was sure that she was comfortable, he took off his boots and shirt then got under the covers. She rolled onto her side so that she was facing him.

"When will we have the ceremony?"

"Whenever we are completely healed."

"Oh. Alright, then!"

She closed her eyes in agreement, and started to lightly rub patterns and rhythms onto his scarred and bandaged chest. She opened them when she accidentally brushed against a wrap.

"I could hear you talk to me sometimes, but I couldn't respond," She said quietly. "That song…was the only thing that really kept me alive. That, and the fact that it was you singing it. I thought, 'If God will let me live, if only for a moment, I will get to see Erik!'"

Erik didn't know how to react to this confession, so he just found her hand and hoped that she did not hear the conversation between him and Mme. Giry about his health. To his relief, she didn't question any topic.

Christine lay there thinking about what it could be that he was hiding. She didn't want to ask about it now, another argument would not be good for her. She turned on her back and rested her hands on her stomach, a dull pain still present.

He sensed her pain with a sixth sense and scooted closer, still facing towards her. He startled her by putting a hand on the ones resting on her abdomen, and entwined their fingers. Such a simple act, yet so very loving. She smiled and opened her eyes, turning her head towards him. She kissed him slowly in return, instead of the quick peck on the cheek or the lips.

When she pulled away, he said casually, "Guess what?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"I love _you_!"

Soon, they both fell into a deep sleep with dreams, still hand in hand.

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**A/N: Aww! I loved writing this chapter! I hope you loved this one! It's called bittersweet because it isn't what you thought it would be. Sensually wise. Well, I guess some of it was, but you know what I mean. Oh yeah, and thank you all for being patient and for reviewing! Please review this one! Thanks, and Love you all!**


	13. A Health Lesson

**Previously:**

_**Christine lay there thinking about what it could be that he was hiding. She didn't want to ask about it now, another argument would not be good for her. She turned on her back and rested her hands on her stomach, a dull pain still present. **_

_**He sensed her pain with a sixth sense and scooted closer, still facing towards her. He startled her by putting a hand on the ones resting on her abdomen, and entwining their fingers. Such a simple act, yet so very loving. She smiled and opened her eyes, turning her head towards him. She kissed him slowly in return, instead of the quick peck on the cheek or the lips. **_

_**When she pulled away, he said casually, "Guess what?"**_

"_**What?"**_

"_**I love you."**_

"**_I love _you_!" _**

_**Soon, they both fell into a deep sleep with dreams, still hand in hand.**_

_**

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**12. A Health Lesson**

_**Voices…two of them.** She opens her eyes and sees Mme. Giry talking to Erik. **Why does he look angry? **Erik suddenly grabs his arm and starts to howl and thrash about. He rips open his jacket and vest, clawing at his blouse._

_Mme. Giry does nothing but watch. **Why isn't she helping him? **Christine sat up and attempted to still him. He shook uncontrollably and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He started screaming hoarsely, **"Christine! CHRISTINE, HELP ME!"** Christine knew what was happening and she felt the hot tears streaming down her cheeks._

_She turned to Antoinette and begged, **"Please, do something or he will die!"**_

_Antoinette only shook her head and walked away._

_Erik stopped struggling and he squeezed Christine's hand in a death grip. He tried to tell her something, but it only came out as a wheezing noise. Christine leaned over him and put her free hand over his heart. _

_It had slow, uneven beats. The seconds grew between beats before it stopped altogether. Erik inhaled sharply and breathed his last. Christine pounded on him, but to no avail; he was already stone cold. This time, there was no coming back; he passed the point of no return.

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_

Christine's body wracked with sobs as she yelled his name, calling him back. She unconsciously bolted upright as she yelled for him.

Erik sat up wide-awake, at his name and he looked over to see Christine sobbing in her hands, chanting his name in anguish. He reached over and pulled her in a tight hug. He felt her lean into him as he spoke to her soothingly.

"Shhh, it's alright, just a nightmare, nothing more. Christine, it's alright, I'm right here, please, no more tears!"

He started to shed silent tears at the sight of Christine's and he rubbed her back in attempt to relax and console her.

He kissed the top of her head, hugged her tighter, and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" It seemed like a stupid thing to say, but he needed to say something, rather than listen to the heart wrenching, sobs she made.

He felt her nod onto his chest and he patiently waited for her. Soon, she did calm down and silently spilled a tear now and then as she spoke, pausing to regain composure.

"The dream…it was horrid! You were there, and so was Antee," She paused, taking a deep breath and said through clenched teeth, "You were…having a heart attack. She just walked away!"

She tried her hardest not to weep, but it came involuntarily, and softly. "You…died…in my arms." She bitterly wiped away the tears saying, "Just a dream…nothing to get upset about."

Erik felt the familiar prickle of dread mixed with fear. He couldn't think of anything else to do, but pull her to him once more in a tight hug, wiping away the stray tears that kept falling from her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to stop them. He knew that he would have to tell her eventually.

He sucked in air and said softly, "Christine, I have a…confession to make," He waited for her to tell him to continue, "Your dream is only partially…accurate. While you were in a coma, I did have a heart attack. I'm alright now though, don't worry about it."

Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing. She hugged him tighter and concentrated on the scars he bore on his chest.

She pulled away, running her fingers over the marks and murmured, "Erik…it cannot be! You aren't even…that old!"

She looked into his eyes with teary ones and pleaded with him, "Tell me it isn't so! You are way too young to die! Tell me that this is just a nightmare, and that I'll wake up with you by my side, both of us healed! Can you do that, Erik? Can you?"

When she saw the look of remorse, she collapsed in his arms and began to sob quietly. Erik put his lips to her ear and said softly, "I won't lie to you, Christine. Fate doesn't like us very much, but no matter; there will always be an **us**. I won't die, not as long as you're with me." He gathered her onto his lap and held her close until she fell asleep again.

Erik was almost asleep when he heard soft footsteps running towards the stairs. The footsteps were not heavy and the intruder made no attempt to hide the sounds their feet made. He relaxed when he saw Chessie appear with a neatly folded note in her hand, her name scrawled upon it in his handwriting.

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**A/N: R&R please! Sorry it took so long...school gets in the way sometimes...**


	14. The Phantom's Game

**13. The Phantom's Game**

Chessie looked at Erik, who still had Christine cradled to him in his lap, fast asleep, and stepped forward. "I received your message. I came as fast as I could. You said it was an emergency?" She cast a worried glance at Christine. "Is she alright?"

Erik put on a ghost of a smile before answering, "No, actually, everything is going just wonderfully!" He spoke distantly, as if he was in his own world.

Chessie tilted her head to the side, staring at him in concerned confusion. "Erik, when is the last time you slept?"

He understood what she was implying and decided to make a game out of it. He put a finger to his lips and shushed her. "Shhh, you'll wake her up!"

Chessie carefully approached them, being as quiet as she could, and stopped at the swan's head. "I think you should rest; you look a bit tired."

Erik shook his head and motioned for her to sit. She took her seat, crossing her legs, and waited for him to speak. He threw his voice at her, so that only Chessie could hear his quick words.

"Speak nothing of our plans around her." Chessie jumped when his voice reach her ear, seeming to come from her head. She had heard of his talents, but never really believed the rumors. She gave him a curt nod and waited for him to say more.

"Christine and I…" He paused for effect and she leaned forward, eager to hear more, "Finally got married last night." Her eyes widened and she appeared fighting inwardly at what to say. _Surely he had a dream…there was no possible way!_

"I…Um…Congratulations?" she faltered. He smirked and she smiled, but she wasn't smiling on the inside. _He has been through so much! It will break his heart when he realizes that it was just a dream._

Erik knew it was a false smile. The eyes and the heart do not lie. He quickly grew tired of this game, and dropped his tone, "Look, I'll show you." He looked down at Christine, still sleeping peacefully in his arms, and quite unintentionally, he dropped his guard. He gently caressed her face and gazed at her affectionately, completely unaware of Chessie's presence. She felt like an intruder.

Erik lightly ran the back of his fingers on her cheek and whispered softly, "Christine, wake up, darling! You have a guest." Christine stirred slightly and his hand massaged her arm. She frowned before slowly opening her eyes and look up at Erik. She gave him a sleepy smile and pressed closer to him.

She inhaled his scent and mumbled into his chest, "Erik…_my angel…my husband._" She giggled at the new name for him, and settled herself even more into his masculine curves, which caused him to freeze. He only meant to hold her, to scare away her fears, not to be **this** close. Erik had never been hugged, much less, having the woman he so dearly loved, be so comfortable around him. He wasn't used to her touch yet.

He removed his arms from her and tried to squirm from her hold on him. Christine grumbled in protest and clung to him like super glue. "Please don't go!"

Erik couldn't resist her plea. He slumped in defeat. She buried her face in his chest again. He suddenly remembered Chessie and almost blushed in embarrassment. He announced, "You have a guest."

Christine turned her head slightly, opened one eye, and peaked out into the darkness to an occupied chair. When she saw who it was, her eye widened and she turned her head all the way towards the girl. "Oh! Please excuse my manners!" With help, she got off Erik's lap and sat up on the bed. "Come here, let me get a good look at you!" She spread her arms out, reaching for Chessie.

Chessie was held arms length before she lost all patience and hugged Christine warmly. Christine was still sore, but she ignored it and welcomed Chessie's friendly gesture, half expecting it. What she did not expect, was a kiss on the cheek from Chessie, but she didn't mind.

Chessie let go and sat on the edge, discreetly dabbing at her eyes. Erik gave her a smug look, and she reciprocated it with a smirk. Christine saw the exchange, and was dumbfounded over what just happened. She just shrugged. _Erik could be strange sometimes. _She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, trying to think of something to say.

"So, what brings you here, Chess?" She asked.

Chessie stole a quick glance at Erik and smiled at Christine. "Well, it appears that Erik had so kindly, sent for me, not about your health as I expected, but to tell me news of your marriage! Oh, I am SO happy for you two!" She clasped her hands in her lap and beamed at them, instantly brightening the room. "I have no doubt that Erik will treat you well; quite the only man I approve of!" She winked at Erik upon seeing his jaw drop at the complements she gave him.

Christine only beamed brighter at him and put her hand over his, which was resting on his leg. He flinched, but didn't pull away. He was rewarded with a kiss on his chin as Christine entwined their fingers. He looked at her in surprise, but upon looking in her deep, brown eyes, he melted and brought their linked hands up to his lips.

Erik whispered in her ear, "You are so beautiful, did you know that, mon ange?" She giggled and kissed his cheek before turning back to Chessie. She had politely turned away and felt small pangs of loneliness. She wished that she could marry a man like Erik. Little did she know that she was on Fate's good side.

After a few fleeting moments, Chessie stood, about to dismiss herself, when she heard a sound through out the lair. Apparently, Erik heard it too, because he threw himself over Christine protectively.

He looked over his shoulder and hissed into Chessie's ear, "Get yourself out. Quickly, now!" She jumped again, but agreed to that suggestion and ran swiftly down the stairs to her passageway.

Christine gripped Erik for life, fear etched into her flawless features. She looked at him and almost began to cry. _What if they finally found him? What if Raoul decided to come back…with the Parisian Guard to aid him? _She buried herself into his chest, trembling slightly. She looked up at him for answers.

"W-what is going on, Erik?" She stammered.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I'm ready for them if they come," he said, almost reading her mind.

She swallowed her fear and nodded, determined not to pass out. They waited expectantly for armed and suited men to barge in, but none came, to their relief.

Suddenly, two voices cried out, and then all was silent.

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**A/N: Sorry, I was trying to submit this last night, but it wouldn't let me! Grr. Spring break is here, so faster updates will be available! Please tell me what you think about this chapter!**


	15. The Following

**14. The Following**

Chessie ran as fast as she could to the direction of her passageway. When she turned the sharp corner, she bumped into something soft, but the force of the impact sent both, her and whatever she bumped into, to the ground.

"**OW!"** They cried in unison.

Both, intruder and escapee looked at each other and screamed.

When Chessie saw who it was, she started to laugh in relief. The relief twisted into anger and horror.

She lowered her voice and demanded, "**What** are you doing here? And _how_ did you even…" She trailed off as realization suddenly dawned on her. Now she was angry and hurt. She glared at Jillian and immediately knew her answers. She gave Jill a look of shock.

"Have you been _following_ me?" Jill's guilty look confirmed her suspicions and before Jill could reply, Chessie stood and yanked her off the ground.

She dusted them both off and said gruffly, "I'll cover your butt this time, but next time you sneak down here, it won't be pretty, got it?" Jill nodded vigorously.

Chessie pulled her by the wrist, instructing, "Remember your manners, don't stare, and don't ask any personal questions. The owner of this Opera lives here with his new wife. They are Erik and Christine Destler. You know Christine as Christine Daée. Erik is the "Phantom", but make no hints that you are aware of this. I'll explain more later."

"Tell anyone, you will suffer the consequences. Erik would see to it. Now, follow my lead." Jill was silent the whole way, listening to Chessie and nodding every now and then.

When they reached the "main" area, Chessie spoke to the air. "Erik, Christine, it's alright, just a false alarm!" She pulled Jill up the stairs and to the bed, where the couple visibly relaxed. Jill hid a little behind Chessie, but she was thrust in front to be introduced.

"This is Miss Jillian Rochelle Caldemier, my guest, and she simply let her curiosity get the best of her. I should have taken extra precautions when I came down here. I'm sorry, please don't be angry with her. It was my fault." She lowered her head in guilt, understanding the severity of the situation. _Had it been someone else…I truly did put our lives in danger._

Erik caught the word "guest" and knew this was the girl Chessie spoke of in her notes. He relaxed, but fixed a piercing stare on Jill. The room was silent while he contemplated what all had happened. He felt a small tug on the sleeve of his robe and leaned down to Christine. She whispered something in his ear and he sat back up, clearing his throat.

"Ahem…My wife has informed me that she knows you from the Ballet Corpse. It is obvious that Chessie knows you as well. But, can I trust you to keep your silence?" He gave her a final menacing glare.

Christine gently pinched Erik's arm underneath the comforter, shocked at his rudeness. He was scaring the poor girl!

Erik jumped slightly, in surprise. He quickly got the message. "Of course we can trust you. I apologize for my lack of manners. I bid you welcome. Please, take a seat, Miss."

Christine nudged him and smiled at Jill, being **_polite_**. He sighed in annoyance.

"Err…I mean, Miss Jillian…?"

Chessie smirked to herself, knowing what was happening. _So…the grasshopper has tamed the Scorpion…_

Jill obeyed, gladly plopping into the nearest chair. She looked at her hands in her lap, a loss for words apparent and very aware of the fact that everyone was waiting for her to say something. When she finally spoke, the remorse was evident in her voice.

"Forgive me, Monsieur, I did not mean to be cause for alarm."

"Please, call me Erik," he paused, looking her over before hesitantly continuing, "You are forgiven…on one condition: you must swear to me that you will speak nothing of this. Do I have your word?"

Jill cracked a small smile and said, "Yes, Mo--Erik! Thank you."

After some time, the conversations got boring to Chessie, and not only that, but it was almost time for her to go to Mme. Giry's room. When there was silence, she motioned for Jill to stand. Knowing that Erik and Christine might want some time alone to rest, she quickly took Jill by the shoulders, leading her towards the tunnel.

"Well, Jill and I must be going, so we will visit you sometime within this week or so, if that is alright with you?"

Erik turned to Christine for consent. She allowed it. "Of course you may visit again! It was a pleasure talking to you two." Erik nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Goodbye, and congrats!" Chessie said over her shoulder. She hurried them along and it wasn't until they were in her room did Jill speak.

"Why did we leave so quickly?"

"Because, I cannot be late for lessons and you must practice for the upcoming auditions…and whatever goes on down there, stays down there, ok?"

"Ok."

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**A/N: AACK! Don't kill me! I'm sorry it was short! I'm working on the next chapter...'tis a good one. Some fluffiness is in store. I hope I get it submitted tonight...**


	16. Meanwhile

**A/N: Warning: this chapter gets a little heated, but nothing offensive.

* * *

**

15. Meanwhile…

"She seems to be the shy type," said Erik.

"She is. She doesn't talk much, but she's a sweetie when she does."

"Oh, I am sure that Chessie will help her out with that." They laughed, agreeing on the subject.

They sat there in awkward silence, not knowing what to say, until Christine involuntarily let out a small groan and closed her eyes. Erik reacted immediately by urgently grabbing her arm, concern written all over him.

"What's the matter? Where does it hurt?" Christine only shook her head and put on a smile for his sake, dismissing any further advances from him…or trying to.

He tenderly took her chin, turning her head to look at him. "Christine, what is it? Just tell me."

"Nothing, I'm tired and in a small amount of pain. It isn't anything I can't handle."

He frowned and let go of her face to grasp her hand instead. "Where, Cherub? Show me." The look on his face made her give up trying to dissuade him. She moved her hand out from beneath his huge one and put hers on top, tucking her perfect fingers in his palm. She hesitantly and slowly placed his hand on her stomach.

"There."

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

"No," She replied quietly. She was but not for food. Erik made her lay back down. She was about to protest, but he gently pushed her down, never removing his hand from her stomach. When she was settled, he removed his hand and replaced it with a gentle kiss.

"Better?"

She feigned sadness and shook her head. Erik instinctively knew her motive. He smiled his rare smile and reached to cup her face. He kissed her lips as soft as a feather, lingering and then pulling away slowly. He watched with satisfaction as she opened her eyes, completely lost in him. Erik smiled again in response to her slow recovery. One side of her parted lips turned upward into a smirk.

"How about now?"

She laughed, "Yes, thank you. I do feel a lot better."

He frowned. "Only a lot better? That was not my goal. Perhaps I should try harder?"

"Perhaps."

Erik held the base of Christine's neck in one hand, roughly pulling her into a kiss. He surprised her, but she quickly followed his lead. They deepened the kiss, and Christine was the one holding onto the back of his head to keep him there. Christine quickly stripped his blouse off, relying only on instinct now. Erik went from her lips to her neck, earning a gasp of delight from her. Christine grabbed his hair and pulled him back up to her mouth. Erik felt his hands wander away from her face and neck, moving down to her hips and stopping. Christine made a very small noise into his mouth when his hand trailed down her side to rest on her hip. He moved his hand back up to curl his fingers into her hair.

She broke the kiss, growled, and ripped off his mask, throwing it to the side. Erik then proceeded to kiss her deeply and more controlled to show her how much she meant to him. Christine knew his language, and everything turned from lust to love in seconds. When Erik started to remove her chemise, he froze, quite aware of what he was doing now. He could not do this. He promised himself that the first time it happens, he would make it memorable for them. The first step to that process was to wait until the night of the ceremony. Now he was angry with himself for not thinking, as he should have.

Erik pulled away from her just as roughly as he had pulled her into it. His rage elevated to the boiling point. He growled and balled his hands into fists at his side, fighting to control his anger.

Christine was frightened and offended. She looked at him in bewilderment. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked tearfully.

Erik turned around, and upon seeing the hurt in her eyes, he softened, anger quickly gone. Now, he was the one who looked at her in bewilderment. He ran to her side. "You're fine, you didn't do anything wrong. It was I, who did the wrong. Matter of fact, you're _mighty_ fine. But I want our night to be special…can we wait a little longer until the night of the ceremony?"

Christine huffed, clearly frustrated. She _was_ his wife legally and soulfully. But not physically. How could he do this to her? How long could she stand it? She was silent for a moment, contemplating what all he said. She realized that he was indeed, right, as always. _Dear, sweet, Erik…always thinking about me, not himself._

"Yes, you are right. But how much longer? I will never be completely yours until we are truthfully one."

"Christine, I don't know how much longer. As I said, when we are both of good health, we will have the ceremony. Please, don't make this any harder than it is."

"Alright," she whispered, turning on her side, her back to him. Erik sighed, knowing that he really did screw up.

Christine's thoughts wandered to the paranoid and pessimistic sides. _What if he doesn't want me? What if he doesn't love me as much anymore? Why did he do that if he wanted to wait? Why can't I control myself? What is it about him that always draws me, yet frightens me? Why?_

Suddenly, her thoughts immediately were gone and pushed away forever. She felt Erik move a strand of her hair away from her face. Then his hot breath on the skin of her ear made her whole body prickle with goosebumps.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have teased you like that."

Her stubborn side came into play. She huffed again, deciding not to answer.

He kissed her temple and lay there, her back pressed to his chest, and he slipped his arm over her waist to clasp their hands together.

"I really am. I won't do it again, I promise."

She couldn't resist the cuteness of his actions. She could say nothing. Instead, she lifted his hand to her lips, an answer that he would know she wasn't angry anymore. He sighed in relief.

They exchanged their nightly "I love you's" and eventually fell into sleep.


	17. Tempers

**16. Tempers**

He paced his bedroom, stopping now and then to break something. He picked up a pocket watch and stared at it. His arm reared back as if to throw it, but then stopped in midair, and set it back down on its stand. Instead, he growled and punched a hole in the wall above it. His knuckle was raw and split open, but he didn't feel it.

He roared at no one in particular, "HOW DARE HIM! THAT'S **_MY _**DECISION TO MAKE! **_NOBODY _**MAKES A FOOL OUT OF ME!" He slammed his fist down on the desk he was standing by, making a small dent in the wood and a big bruise on his already bloody hand. Exhausted from his fit of rage, he poured himself a glass of scotch and sat in his favorite armchair. He took a sip and rubbed his sore temples, muttering curses under his breath.

He wasn't an alcoholic, he only drank to calm down. He took another swig and finished it off. He angrily threw the glass across the room onto a wall, which shattered upon impact on the wall. He gripped the arms of the chair in attempt to control himself. The scotch and his efforts eventually take effect and he passes out.

Gerard awoke later that evening, the sky not yet dark. He decided to take a walk as the sun set. He put on his cloak and top hat, grabbing his cane as he passed through the door and out onto the streets. Gerard walked until he could no more. He found a crude park bench and sat down, trying to sum up the recent events.

His manager informed him earlier that day that he'd been demoted. The manager said that his voice was unique, but hadn't been the best as of late. He suspected that something was amiss and he questioned Gerard about it, not bothering to ask in the privacy of his office, but rather, pulling him aside in the middle of a rehearsal. The matter was dismissed without an answer.

Later on, he was again, called forth, but into an office. This time, it was to inform him that "due to some problems" he would not be able to sing his solo. Instead, there were several choices: be a substitute, a member of the background vocals, or it could be arranged for him to be in the chorus for certain numbers. The manager discussed it with the maestro and since they had to make the decision on the spot, they placed him in the background vocals. Gerard wanted to be a substitute, since he wasn't able to sing his own part. When he was told his position, he quietly left the room and went home.

As he sat, he didn't notice that the sun was almost down until a bird flew to his feet, startling him out of his thoughts. He reached out to touch the bird and it backed away a little. He whistled a very strange tune, luring the bird to his hand.

Within minutes, Gerard sat on the bench with a wild bird perched in his huge palms. He discovered his talent to lure stray or wild animals as a boy living on the streets. Music and his animal companions were all that he lived for then and now.

He stood up with the bird in his hands. He murmured a 'thanks' and a 'goodbye' before he thrust his palms skywards, watching with immense joy as the bird flew free. He turned and walked home, this time, paying attention to where he was going, enjoying the scenery, smelling the various flowers, and studying the many colors of the darkening sky. It truly was beautiful. Nature had its own magic, never staying the same, but always beautiful.

Gerard turned a corner and walked by large, ominous buildings, all beaten up from years of weather. There was one building that caught his attention: The Legendary Opera Populaire. Almost a year ago, there was a tragic story that took place. Apparently, the most famous diva, Christine Daaé, was caught in a love triangle, and a dangerous one, at that! During a performance, she was kidnapped by the Phantom, never to be seen again. She was presumed dead when the media spoke of the Phantom's death; said they killed him.

_How unfortunate, she was a pretty little thing. _Gerard decided that he was on the Phantom's side; he'd met the famous Viscount. He was annoying in the way that he presented and conducted himself. Anyone else, it would have been expected, but he just didn't look right; girlish in a way.

He stood before the repaired building, studying the numerous signs, posters, and ads. He observed that one of the posters had a painted portrait of Miss Daeé in her last costume. It was erected in her memory by her fans. Somewhere further he noted with enthusiasm, an advertisement for the encore performance of Don Juan Triumphant and they were recruiting all performers for auditions.

_Yes! This could be my chance!_ He was in a great mood now, but he dreaded going home to clean up the mess he made earlier. _I suppose it must be done sometime or another._

When he got home, he did not clean. Instead, he marched straight to his music room and played his violin and his grand piano until the break of dawn.

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**A/N: This is definetaly the turning point. Thank you all for reviewing! And Gerard will have a big part, and so will Jill. And unfortunetaly...the fop must make a comeback. Just to let you know. But please, Review this Chapter and tell me what you think about it! THANK YOU ALL AGAIN!**


	18. Rehearsals

**17. Rehearsals**

Monsieur Reyer hustled and bustled about, preparing the orchestra for the tryouts. The orchestra was already familiar with the sheet music, but they needed to polish it off in time for the casting.

"No, no! Stop!" He raised his hands up, balling them into fists when they reached the top of his graceful gesture.

Silence.

He pointed an accusing baton at a woodwind member, "A G sharp, **_NOT_** G flat! Get it right, you buffoon!"

The young man's face brightened in embarrassment before nodding vigorously and apologizing. The Maestro stared menacingly at him, and then turned towards the rest of the orchestra. He tapped the stand with his wand and raised his arms artistically.

"Alright, start with measure ten and don't go further without my consent." They looked at him in confusion but his purpose soon sank in.

They finished the measure without any mistakes and M. Reyer stood straight, his mood slightly elevated. "Good! Now, from the top!" Groans and growls of protest reached his ears. "Would you throw away all of your hard work the day of casting, when you make dire mistakes because you didn't want to practice?" Red faced, he glared at his employees.

When no one dared to answer him, he spoke with a firm, final tone, "I thought not. Well then…let's proceed, shall we?" They obediently followed his well-practiced rhythm and played the song flawlessly, much to his delight.

"Wonderful! Remember to practice your pieces in your designated practice times. For the next rehearsal, I want you to practice this song until you have it down pat. Now then, you are dismissed." He reached into his brief case, took out a long, velvet box, and opened it, putting in the baton. Then he closed his folder with the sheet music and shoved it, with the box, into the case, and walked out of the Opera House. When he reached the sidewalk, he flagged down a hansom to take him home.

* * *

From somewhere above, a man in the shadows watched the whole rehearsal. When it was over, his heart was heavy but determined. He sighed, mumbling, "I suppose all maestros are strict. Then again, they must be."

Gerard had snuck in to pick the song that he wished to audition. He choose the exact same song the maestro instructed to practice for next time: 'The Point of No Return'.

_Yes, I can do this! It cannot be that hard, all I have to do is sing my part and exit. I must work quickly in order to be ready for next week!_

After everyone was gone, he left his hiding spot, making his way out, and flagging down his hansom. When he got home, Gerard started on his work right away.

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**A/N: Sorry it's so short, but that's it for this chapter! Thank you so much for all of your awesome reviews! Keep them coming, I'm becoming inspired again! Next chapter is the tryouts. Hehe...this is gonna be interesting...don't worry, our beloved Chessie and Jill will be involved. R&R please!**


	19. Tryouts I

**18. Try-outs I**

"**NEXT!**" André yelled. To his right, sat Firmin scribbling notes on a small lap desk. To André's left, sat Mme. Giry for the dancing audits. Finally, to _her_ left, sat the Vicomte for a second opinion. Monsieur Reyer was part of the casting as well, but of course, he was in the pit.

"Name?" Inquired Firmin.

"Jesselyn O'Malley, Sir," came her soft reply.

Firmin grunted and searched through his stack of papers, running a finger down the pages as he read the names. Upon finding what he was looking for, he scratched out the name and turned to Madame Giry, gesturing to her to proceed with her role.

"What genre are you auditioning?" She asked.

"Just dancing, Madame."

"Hmm. Are you familiar with this opera, Miss…O'Malley?"

"Yes, I know all of the songs, almost by heart!" Jesselyn marveled.

"You don't sound like you are from Paris; how is that you are…acquainted with Don Juan?" Mme. Giry asked.

"Well, I'm from New York…in America. And in New York, Opera is _quite _a sensation!"

"Sounds interesting, but if you know the songs, then why dance?"

"Oh no, you see, I cannot sing. But I can dance!"

"I'm sure you can, America is big on that as well. Now then, on with business!"

Jesselyn danced her moves out on the stage to her song selection and finished with a dazzling finale. All of the judges stared at her. She began to get nervous when no one spoke.

"Oh! I'm sorry; it was too provocative, wasn't it?"

Mme. Giry was quick to reply, "**No!** No, it was appropriate for the piece you chose. Thank you; come back in a week to see the results."

Jesselyn curtseyed and exited the stage. As soon as she was gone, all of the judges leaned in for opinions. Soon, a conclusion was made and André's shout provoked another audit to step on-stage. This time, it was a male. A large man who towered easily, over everyone else, when he was drawn to full height.

His semi-long, hair was slicked back, accenting his beautiful blue-green eyes. He was strikingly handsome, with an air of mystery surrounding him. He was wearing a black tailcoat with a white, winged collar blouse, slightly adorned with frills. The collar was neatly wrapped with a perfectly tied cravat of wine. It was made of the finest silk you could find in all of France.

His vest was the color of blood red wine too. In his hand, he held his cane as a fashion rule; the handle made of pure gold and carved with intricate details. His top hat was held to his stomach in politeness.

His perfect smile and adorable chin cleft added to his masculinity. He chose to wear his best boots, polished until they shone. They were black to match his tailcoat and trousers. They made a clip-clopping sound as he made his way, gracefully, to the center of the stage. When he reached his destiny, he bowed and waited.

Mme. Giry gasped in awe at the man before them. She searched her memory for a name or a place where she had seen him. She was sure he looked familiar. Raoul jumped slightly in recognition, but could not figure out why. He was sure they had never met, but still…

Firmin asked the man for his name; to which he replied, "Gerard Destler." Mme. Giry recognized the name.

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**A/N: Sorry this took sooo long! I am dividing this chapter into two or three parts. It's VERY long. But fear not! Erik and Christine will be in the next chapter. Not in the immediate chapter, but you know what I mean. Also...for part 2, Chessie and Jill come in. And of course, we get to see Gerard's tryout. I am so thankful for all of you that reviewed! You guys make me so happy! And...the more I get, the more I'm inspired! And I've got NEW readers! squeals in delight and jumps up and down Sorry about the loooong A/N, but I just HAD to let you guys know that I'm still alive! I'll try my best to get the next update within this week. HOPEFULLY this weekend. Thank all of you who are still reading this! LOVE YOU ALL!**


	20. Tryouts II

"**M**adame? Madame?!"

She snapped back to reality and shakily, began her interrogation. "Ahem...Monsieur...Destler...What will you be doing for us today?"

He replied, "I will be singing "The Point of No Return."

"A fine selection, indeed, but it is difficult. Do you have any vocal experience?"

It was almost an insult. "Yes, I recently finished a job in an opera choir."

"Very well then, only one more question."

He raised his eyebrows and blinked, waiting with baited breath for her query.

"Monsieur Destler, are you...by any chance, related to a Madeleine Destler?" The judges peered at her with questioning looks. Monsieur Destler made a strange gesture that Mme. Giry couldn't tell if it meant yes, or no. She dismissed it and nodded for Monsieur Reyer to start the music.

Gerard gave his cane and hat to a stage hand and began to count the measures, listening for his cue. He began to sing.

_Passafarino, go away, for the trap is set and waits for its prey..._

Mme. Giry involuntarily closed her eyes to the beautiful notes that came to her ears. His voice wasn't whispery like Erik's, but it was softer, and slightly deeper. **(A/N: Think Garou or Andrea Boccelli!) **Nevertheless, he still created the seductive illusion of Don Juan, something previous male audits tried to unsuccessfully, replicate. Firmin and Andre felt goose bumps at the realization of how alike Gerard and the Opera Ghosts' voices were.

Before he could get to the lyrics, _"What sweet seduction lies before us"_ , M. Firmin slowly raised his hand to silence him. _**He had just gotten into the music when he was ordered to stop!**_ The judges were gawking at him and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited for his fate to be announced.

Meanwhile, somewhere backstage, stood Jill and Chessie trying to relax each other. They were next, Jill was first. They started to do warm ups when Chessie paused, suddenly interested in the man on stage. She caught his name and gasped.

"Destler..." Jill whispered, "Isn't that-..."

"Erik's last name...?" They whispered in unison.

"Yes, but...he didn't say anything about expecting a family member!" Observed Chessie. Jill nodded in agreement. Suddenly, a trance-like voice rose into the air. It was soft at first, then it rang louder in a smooth crescendo. Instantly, the two girls and several others relaxed and fell under the spell of the tenor. The voice dropped into a diminuendo and then louder again before it stopped abruptly. Everyone violently snapped out of the tranquil state that briefly washed over them.

Chessie looked over at Jill, who was close to hyper-ventilating. She patted Jill's arm reassuringly, smiled, and gave her a guiding push when "Next!" was shouted. Jill looked back at her as if it was the last time. Chessie giggled and whispered, "Go, silly!" She finished her command with an urgent sweeping motion of her hands. Jill put on a smile and more confident, proceeded to walk across the stage. Alone, Chessie's nerves were high-strung, but she started to go over her lines anyway.

Puzzled, Gerard quickly exited the stage with his belongings, contemplating the judges' expressions, trying to decipher them. Not watching where he was going, he plowed into an audit, who lost their balance. With reflexes as quick as a cat, he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could hit the woodwork. His eyes still to the floor, he mumbled a quick, "Excuse me." He let go and began to walk away, when he stopped, held back by the hand that still gripped his arm.

"Wait, Monsieur!"

He looked up, slowly, studying her from toe to head. They briefly locked eyes before he looked away, feeling the heat creep up to his face. She gave him a small tug, forcing him to look her in the eyes again.

"Thank you," she said quietly, shyly.

He didn't know what to say. "I ahhm...right...you're welcome?" He then remembered his manners, bowing low and politely kissing her knuckles, which caused both to blush. "Forgive me, Mademoiselle." He then turned to go, and once more, felt the small tug on his arm.

"You did wonderfully out there, why do you doubt your talents?"

He was surprised by her observation, and had to think before replying cooly, "Well, I assume that when one is gawked at, he fails, was terrible, or is abhorrent in appearance."

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and asking two questions in one, "Assume...Monsieur...?"

He caught it, "Gerard, Gerard Charles Destler. And you are...?"

She extended her hand, which he dutifully kissed, as was the custom. "Chessie Renae Lapierre. Jher-rrarhd. Interesting. You really mustn't assume such things, Gerard."

"And why not? What other _things_ can I assume?" He argued.

"Well, for one thing, you did not fail. That, I am **most** sure of. And you are **quite** the opposite of abhorrent!" she added with a grin.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Thank you for your kind words, but I'm afraid they are ineffective as to the truth." He bowed and kissed her hand once more, quickly countering her words, "It is almost your turn, and it is time for me to retire for the night. I bid you farewell and good luck." He finally managed to walk out of her grasp, leaving Chessie to watch after him.

Suddenly she remembered why he looked so familiar and took off after him.

"Wait!" she called to him.

He stopped and turned to face her out of curiosity. She immediately began to blush, knowing what she had to do. "Do you...have time to...stop by my room...for tea? There are things I should like to discuss with you."

"Already? Mademoiselle Lapierre, we hardly know each other! I am a very busy- "

"That's the thing...I think I know who you are." Chessie interrupted.

He took a step towards her, "Impossible! I am merely a man who hides in the crowds, nothing more. I am sorr-"

"Please? As a token of my gratitude? I'll make special tea for you! Please, Monsieur, I need to know something!" She feigned a puppy face and he laughed outright. "I suppose there's an empty space in my schedule this evening. Perhaps, instead of tea, I can treat you to dinner?"

Her eyes widened in delight as he turned the tables. He was rich, he could provide a meal large enough for a week! She would bring some left-overs for the others, she vowed. As soon as she composed herself, she replied, "It would be an honor!"

"Very well then, I will have a hansom pick you up at..." He took out his gold chained pocket watch and looked at it before returning it to his pocket and asked, "Six O'clock?"

She nodded. Perfect! Just enough time to get ready after her tryout! This was going to be interesting!

**(A/N: BWAHAHA! I have returned!!! After a two year break! Hope you enjoy! R & R!)**


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